“Ok Sir, we’ve started gathering all of the lamp oil we can find. Now what exactly do you want us to do with it?” Sergeant Major Koma asked his commander as they coordinated the town’s defenses.

“Poor it on the road leading towards the village, we’re going to light the trail on fire when the Twili approach. That should slow them down a bit. Plus it will light up the battlefield for our archers. Oh right, Seishi pointed up towards the cliffs over the town’s tunnel entrance. “I want every archer, no, everyone who can use a bow well enough on that cliff. I want to make the most of this bottleneck.”

Koma was a bit skeptical of that order, “You sure you want everyone. Even with that bottleneck we might not have enough to hold them from breaking through, and when they do it’ll be too dark to climb down and they won’t be able to fire down without hitting our own people.”

Seishi didn’t show a single hint of concern, “Line the cave with torches and keep the phalanx columns just outside of the light. As long as the light holds out I’ll be able to hold that tunnel by myself until dawn.”

“Not that I doubt you but what if one of them gets a lucky shot on you?” Koma asked.

“That’s why I still want to phalanx behind me.” Seishi grinned. “Anyway, I’ll be in my tent, let me know if you run into any trouble.”

The trio made to the edge of forest in short time. Unfortunately doing so meant flying high and fast which is quiet uncomfortable for the inexperienced flyer in the group, something Ayala failed to take into account. Things would only get worse for Ella when Oberon noticed Kokage below them. Ayala tried to warn her new friend of the impending dive but failed to realize the high speed wind made her impossible to be heard and before Elle could say “what,” they entered a high speed plunge only pulling up to at the last possible second need to keep their organs from liquefying.

“Well, look whose back. Did you enjoy your night in the nice cots back at base?” Crim remarked upon seeing his lieutenant return.

Crim let out an exasperated sigh causing Len Ront to snicker. That fact that he could never tell is Ayala was seriously missing the point or just messing with him always vexed him, and Crim’s suffering always amused Len.

Ayala continued, “Actually I’m surprised to see you guys here, with Kokage. No wait, I guess I mean I’m surprised to see him here with you. I figured he’d bail once I left.”

“Continuing to helping them gets them out of the forest quicker. That’s the only reason.” Kokage responded bluntly as ever.

“Ah, don’t act you don’t care,” she teased knowingly.

“Anyway Lieutenant,” Capt D’Ren boomed having grown tired of the sudden distraction, “Do you have any news or orders from base?”

“Oh right, yah-” Ayala proceeded to explain the current situation include the impending final attack on Kakariko, the need for the Blessing of Ordon, and the possibility thatGrem was being strengthened by everyone killed during the war.

Upon hearing the explanation Kokage suddenly turned and started walking towards Ordon, “If Ordon is your goal that means part of the forest is a target of your enemies. With the time spent helping all of you it has been left unguarded for far too long.”

“That’s his way of saying he’s going to help. I have to go.” Ayala said before chasing after the Elemental.

“There goes our Squad Leader, running off again.” Crim sighed.

“You’re going with her, and take Pvt Rick with you.” D’ren ordered

“Tsk, damn it,” Crim mutter before grabbing the private and running to catch up the others.

Summary: Ayala met back up with Kokage and her Company. She explains the situation then followed Kokage to Ordon along with two of her subordinates.

Seishi/HK/Morning 3

“Nayru be praised I never thought I’d see they day. You are doing paper work.” Laynnei jested as she entered her husband’s tent.

“Field Commissions and Non Commissioned Officer appointments. They still tend to only give me ‘trouble makers’ so everyone’s a bit under ranked. I’m short on leadership positions because of that and need to get this figured it out.” Seishi replied.

“It is almost as if this leadership thing suits you. And to think you spent all those years avoiding it. All though I had hoped your new rank would afford us more comfortable quarters,” she said as she laid down on the nearby cot.

“Colonel doesn’t mean what it used back during the Imprisoning War. That and we did lose the castle, again.” Seishi left his desk and sat down on the cot next to his wife allowing her to use is lap as a pillow. “But no, I don’t think is suits me, I just feel like I have to put in the extra effort. This unit I’m building, it’s worth it. I feel like I have to make sure it succeeds.”

“mMmmm... I’m glad you found something you enjoy. The war’s almost over though,” she said as she started to drift off to sleep but and a short moment realized the implications of what Seishi was saying and gained a second wind. “You want us to stay in Hyrule.”

“I do, but not just for the special forces and not just for me. Phoenix won’t be able to maintain a human for much longer and I owe it to him help fill the void,” Seishi explained.

Laynnei wasn’t foolish enough to take that at face value, “Is it really because you feel obligated to Phoenix, or is it because you feel obligated to your family’s old duties?”

“Both,” He responded without even without even giving it a second thought, “but more than just that. It’s because I owe it to our family too. The kids deserve to rejoin the world, but they won’t without us out of guilt. And is seems like a good time, the length of this war has given them time to start building lives and forging bonds. Plus, don’t act like you don’t enjoy helping in the hospital. Otherwise you wouldn’t be half asleep after pulling an all nighter.”

Laynnei attempted to play coy, “That was your son’s doing. He asked me to help patch up the Light Warriors who were injured in ways normal doctors couldn’t deal with.”

Seishi easily saw though his wife’s BS, “Who were all up on their feet by midnight. You, however, worked past sun up, until you finally exhausted. You can’t fool me honey, I know you actually like helping people. It’s why you became a healer in the first place.”

“You know full well that is a gross over simplification,” she fired back but quickly relented know that he was right, “but not untrue. I suppose it is time we returned to the world; I do have one condition though. Phoenix has wanted Senshi to join the black ops for a long time, both because he’s a good fit and because it might help him come to terms everything he’d had to do. I tend to agree with him on that and told him he should start grooming him for it back when the war started. The only problem is you; Phoenix won’t ask Senshi to join because he thinks he’d be betraying you. If you want us to stay in Hyrule you have to let this happen.”

Seishi was visibly annoyed by the terms, “Help him come to terms? How, by throwing him farther into the darkness? By subjecting him to the same things that haunted Nahc till the end of his life?”

Laynnei shook her head, “Nahc was a child who witnessed the most horrible things anyone had ever done in a war that was started by one man’s greed. Senshi’s a man who needs to realize the darker things he’s done to shorten wars and protect people he cares about weren’t wrong.” Seeing he husband was still unmoved she reached up and touched her hand to his cheek making him look her in the eye, “You know this is right, he will never find peace if he can’t embrace his shadows and see that what he does with it is good.”

Seishi let out a deep sigh before finally reluctantly relenting, “I guess it can’t be helped.”

“Good,” she said back in her usual above it all tone, “now that we’ve settled that I can finally get some sleep. You should too since you plan on fighting all night long. Your paper work can wait now that you will apparently have years to get everything in order.”

Seishi just smiled as wife drifted back to sleep. He tried to do the same but just as he started to nod off a random Sergeant bust in the tent in a panic, “Sir! We’re, oh I um… excuse me.”

“I am going to erase the part of his brain the lets him talk.” A still mostly asleep Laynnei mumbled.

“Please don’t,” Seishi quietly pleaded before turning his attention to the messenger. “Well, what is it?”

The now flustered sergeant began to stumble through his report, “We’re under attack, but not by the Twili. It’s a bunch of zombies, sir. The man with the wings and the old wizard have been holding horde off by themselves so the vanguard has been hold fast and continuing with the battle preparations for tonight. Sergeant Major Koma wants to know if we should engage though.”

Seishi showed little concern, “An Angel and Chamder should be perfectly fine against a few undead. There’s no point in exhausting the troops before the main event. No wait, tell Koma to send the Special Trainees. It’ll be good experience for them.

Summary:

Seishi and Laynnei discuss remaining in Hyrule after the war. Seishi is told about the undead horde but hearing that Aris and Chamder are dealing with it and having not been told the full severity of the situation he decides it’s not worth expending man power on. He does however send the Special Forces trainees to get involved figuring it’ll be a good learning experience.

It was still some time before full dark as Isaac strode, concealed within some Twili illusion magic that made him appear his once-normal Hylian self, into the village nestled at the base of Death Mountain. Along with him came a pair of agents of the Twili, intelligence operatives also magicked in shadow to appear as Hylian refugees, hard-worn and travel stained. Unlike the hidden village to the north, a remnant of a remnant, Kakariko Village was not overrun. Still, more than a few clusters of refugees fleeing the bloodshed cluttered its broad, dusty street. The slow-setting sun cast slanted golden rays across patched tents and filthy, bloodied faces, and set the motes of dust and dirt afire in the air.

"Keep a keen eye for anything that appears out of place," he instructed the two others under his breath as they walked deeper into the heart of the one-street town.

"Two eyes, preferably," the one named Coel quipped.

"You're sure he's here?"

The answer was delayed as they passed a Goron lumbering past them in the opposite direction, bearing an armload of spare supplies toward a small group of Hylians struggling to erect a tent in the shadow of one of the taller wooden buildings.

"Best intelligence reports we've got suggest he's here. We lost track of him a long time ago, though." That was Bryn, the other one. Coel's sister, he thought, though in all honest he neither remembered nor cared overmuch.

He didn't respond. He was scanning the surroundings. This village had never been particularly bustling, but there did seem to be more activity than he'd seen in recent memory here. The Gorons were a significant presence everywhere he looked. Guards, he realized. The Hylian forces were all further north, so the Gorons had descended in some force from Death Mountain to protect Kakariko Village. Strange, that.

"Why wouldn't they simply abandon this village? Goron City and their mines are secure and more than spacious enough to house them all. That'd be a far more defensible a location than here, with little more than a pair of rickety gates to hold back the hordes should they march here." He wasn't really speaking to the other two. Merely musing out loud. They seemed to realize the fact and remained silent as he scrutinized their surroundings.

There were a lot of Gorons. It was impossible to miss, now that he was looking. Rolling to and fro, going about their various business. Not that there was much business to conduct.

"You, Bryn."

"Yes... Kinslayer?" There was always such a distinct unease when they spoke his name.

"Kill someone."

"Beg pardon?"

"Kill someone. Do it out in the open." He turned his eyes around on her, and for a moment the flames in them flared through the illusion. "I want to see what they do."

"They'll kill me if I do that, Kinslayer."

"And if you don't, I'll kill you, and you'll find that a lot less pleasant."

For his part, Coel remained silent. Either he wasn't truly Bryn's brother, or the Twili had much less compunction about sacrificing their kin. That silence was deafening, and it left the young Twili spy with little choice. Setting her jaw, she nodded, reaching down to draw the short sword at her hip. While she moved out into the street toward a cluster of refugees, Isaac and the other sank back into the shadows in an alley between tall buildings, mostly out of sight, and waited. The reaction would tell him everything he needed to know.

And then Isaac would kill another King.

Summary: Isaac finds himself in Kakariko Village with a pair of Twili spies, all concealed within magical illusions. He notes that the village is unusually active with Gorons and a handful of refugee groups, despite most Hylians having fled to Hidden Kakariko. Acting on a hunch, he instructs one of the spies to kill someone out in full view so that he can read the reaction.

As the others talked Ella kept a close eye on the forest around them. Back in the good old days she trained here with her father learning the skills and trade of a bounty hunter. She thought back to the first time she ever caught a bounty, ambushing the wanted man from the shadows. Ella slowly prowled around ignoring most of the conversation. When her companions finished talking she closed her eyes as the faint sound of snapping tree branches reached her ears.

“Shhh! Did you hear that?”

Before the others could respond Ella ran off into the dense woods like an animal on the hunt. She vaulted over roots and ducked under branches, finally coming face to face with a lone Twili. As the red eyed man caught sight of her she let loose a throwing star with such speed even Ella wondered how she achieved it. Though caught off guard the Twili held up a metal gauntlet and froze the throwing star in midair.

With the power gloves Magnesis properties activated the Twili snapped his fingers and let the frozen projectile fall.

“Stop! There’s no need to…” Before the Twili could speak Ella threw another throwing star. Though stopping it as easily as last time, Ella quickly leaped up into the tree tops and stalked her pray from above. The Twili in turn spotted her and pulled the largest boomerang Ella had ever seen out from behind his back. It had to at least be the size of a longsword, yet it flew effortlessly into the air.

Quite harmlessly as it went nowhere near Ella. Before she could comment on his poor aim, her adversary magnetically latched on to the boomerang and started guiding it through the tree tops like a buzz saw. Ella leapt from tree to tree narrowly avoiding the whirling weapon. In a vain attempt at communication the long bearded Twili shouted out to her.

“I’ll knock you out if I have to, but I’m not your enemy. Stop this at once!”

As he guided the boomerang to return to him, the Twili looked up to see Ella, staff drawn, jumping down at him. The killing blow was stopped at the last second by a staff far more ancient and elegant then the one Ella had in hand. She look up to see the disgraced Zora warrior she had dealt with just day ago.

“You again” said both Stella and Ella in uniform surprise. Just then the rest of Ella’s party finally caught up with her and all drew their weapons.

“Wait! I know this looks bad, but we’re allies not enemies. As much as it pains me to say this, the Twili and I are both on Hyrule’s side.”

“Ha” scoffed Ella. “Days ago you were foaming at the mouth with the chance to destroy Hyrule. Now you want to be its savior? As if! For all I know you’re just playing a long game to screw us over in the end.”

“I suppose I deserve your skepticism. If so, then perhaps a more trustworthy source will suffice.”

From out behind the trees another Zora female appeared. Though meeker than Stella she strode with an air of confidence and royalty that gave off a larger appearance that her short stature. Immediately everyone in Ayala’s group who recognized her sheathed their weapons and bowed before the Zora. Ella looked in confusion.

“Who’s this” asked Ella to Ayala. “Someone you know?”

“Not personally” replied the petite looking Zora. “I am Princess Orsina, second to that name, and heir to the Zora throne. I apologize if our intrusion caused alarm. It seems we have crossed paths by mere happenstance. …Or perhaps it was destined for us to be here. In time like these one can never tell.”

Hailing from the lowest class of Castle Town’s slums Ella was shocked to be in the presence of royalty, much less talking to a princess. If only her father could see her now. Embarrassed she knelt down in an awkward looking bow. Never having the need to learn formalities, Ella was at a loss for how to talk to Orsina.

“Your royal princess… I mean, your majesty, I formally wish to inform you…”

“Its O.K” said Orsina with compassion, “We’re at war now. You can speak openly and bluntly with me.”

“Thanks” replied Ella rising to stand. “If you didn’t mean to find us, what are you doing here with these… servants I presume?” Stella and the Twili both shot Ella a dirty look.

“We’re here for one reason only. Zora’s Domain is collapsing. There is only one way we can stop that...”

Summary: Ella sees a Twili in the woods and attacks him. The killing blow is blocked by Stella however as the two bitterly reunite. Stella, Darwin Marrus (the Twili defector from earlier), and Zora princess Orsina are all going to Ordon on a secret mission to save Zora’s Domain. Orsina begins to explain what their up to.

Stella Delphinus/Zora’s Domain/Flashback Night 2

“Oh god, no” said Stella aghast at the sight of seeing Zora’s Domain reduced to an arctic tundra. The whole city was unnaturally quiet in this frozen state, mostly decrypt and abandoned. The few citizens remaining clung around a smoldering excuse of a fire. The look of cold and starvation hung equally over them all as small crumbs of bread were passed out. Though a pitiful meal for even a cockroach the frail Zora all devoured it like a 4 course meal.

Below her feet Stella caught sight of several Zora frozen beneath the water. They must have been unfortunate victims who were below water when the region began to freeze. Worst of all no one, not even the children paid any attention to the frozen bodies that lined the pathways. The fragrance of rotting corpses filled the air with an overwhelming stench of death.

“Isn’t anyone going to come and give these people a proper burial?”

“I’m afraid most people here don’t have the strength or the will to do that anymore. Since I’m the most able bodied left I’ll take care of it” said Orsina solemnly. “Besides I can’t afford to exert our men any more then they have to.”

Stella was about to correct her in saying these people were civilians, when a horrible realization dawned upon her. The elderly, the women, the children. They were all armed with the trademark Zora spears. Zora’s Domain had taken to conscripting these people out of desperation.

Stella fell on her knees in despair “But, it can’t be. How? How could this happen?”

“The suffering you see before you is all the work of a Twili curse” said the princess. “Though we don’t know the means they used to cast it, the entire Zora River system has been completely frozen by some cursed form of dark magic. For six months our domain has stood like this, plunging our entire species into a state of sickness and famine.”

“Everything we’ve done to remove this ice has failed. Even with Hyrules greatest fire mages, the ice keeps creeping back faster than we can melt it. Thanks to them half of Zora’s Domain has either fled the country, or died as a result. I don’t think I need to emphasize how desperate the situation is now that you’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

“Faced with the possibility of extinction my father, King Realto, has chosen to do the unthinkable. Tomorrow evening, he’s going to renounce his claim to the throne and surrender to the Twili. In exchange the Twili will lift the curse, and give aid to our people. With the poor state of our army we can’t put up more than a token resistance. Yet to bow to the Twili will be a fate worse than death in my opinion.”

“When Zora’s Domain falls the Twili will have the opportunity to swing north, and take out Hidden Kakariko on two fronts. Given that the northern pass is weekly defended, that could be a war winning masterstroke right there. Make no mistake Twili mean to forcibly convert everyone into their demon worshiping faith. If they are allowed to succeed here, the Zora may live, but Hyrule will die. That is where you come in.”

“Your majesty, though I don’t deserve it, my life is committed to serving you to the dyeing breath. What is it that you request of me?”

“I chose you because I need someone who has inside knowledge of the Twili. We have uncovered that the Twili have developed some kind of thermal bomb, capable of melting even the thickest of ice caps. It is that weapon that the used to turn the tide at Lake Hylia. Reports say there is a backup stored at the Twili fortress in Ordon under the protection of its developer, Zephyra Ryssdal.”

“Zephyra” questioned Stella. “I know her; she’s the one who tricked me into believing the Zora were still at war with Hyrule! If it’s her you want then allow me to pay her a visit. I have some unsettled business to take care of.”

“We must be careful. We don’t have the strength to launch a full out attack on their fortress, so we’ll have to go the infiltration route. Accompanying us will be a Twili named Darwin Marrus. He claims to have fermented a rebellion against the Twili Kingdom years ago and maintains knowledge about their tactics. He also has a history with the Ryssdal family, so he’ll be sure to help us.”

Summary: In a flashback to Night Two Stella discovers the icy dungeon she was in was actually part of Zora’s Domain. Princess Orsina explains that a magic curse (by Taden, the Twili, or both, I forget) has frozen over Zora’s Domain. As a result the remaining Zora are freezing and starving, and the Zora King is about to surrender. This would let the Twili attack Hidden Kakariko on two fronts.

To prevent this Orsina has recruited Stella and former Twili rebel Darwin Marrus to track down Zephyra Ryssdal, who is in possession of a thermal bomb capable of unfreezing Zora’s Domain.

Ella Huntley/Forest/Morning 3

“And that’s why we’re here” Princess Orsina finished explaining to the others. “The fortress Zephyra resides in was constructed overlooking Ordon spring. If you’re headed there, perhaps we could be of use to each other. You help us enter the fortress, and we’ll get you into the spirits spring.”

“Alright that does seem logical. We’ll help you if we can” said Ella to the princess. Ella then turned to look at Stella. “Look I still don’t trust you, and I sure as hell haven’t forgiven you for all the crap you’ve put me through! But right now we could use all the help we can get. You know the whole enemy of my enemy thing.”

“Thank you Ella. I know you won’t accept my apology, but I was wrong about you and the other Hylian’s. You’re a good person who was right the whole time. I shouldn’t have been so quick to turn against you back in that dungeon.”

“Yeah? No shit” said Ella walking away. As she passed Ayala she grabbed her on the shoulder. “Stella, if you really want to apologize then make sure this girl survives the coming battle. She might be our only way to return back to the past.”

“You’ve found a way back in time” shouted Stella with excitement.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Just shut up and do as you’re told alright?”

Summary: Orsina finishes explaining the situation to everyone. Zephyra is in a recently build fortress overlooking Ordon spring. Since the destinations are so close Orsina proposes working together to reach their respective goals. Ella is still skeptical of Stella, but accepts her help anyway.

”Sire, come quick! You will want to see this,” one of the Twili scouts whispered down to Taden. He climbed a short outcropping that overlooked a wide stream in the canyons, and saw it running into the mouth of a low cave. In the dark of night, he could just discern the wake of a line of small boats creeping along the current, floating quietly into the depths of the cave.

When his eyes adjusted to the distance, he could see two long ferries sailing towards the cavern, each with a strange demonic figure carved into its bow—one with a cloaked skeleton holding a large bell in either hand, the tails of the cloak flapping in the breeze, and one with a stone griffin’s head atop the bowsprit, its stone talons bearing bells that hung just below the water’s surface. The vessels moved without sails, and the gilded bells made not a sound. As they passed, he saw a red-eyed skull carved into the back of the first ship, and the unmistakable Weeping Eye of the Sheikah carved into the last.

“An underground river?” Taden mused.

“They are relocating their civilians,” the scout observed. “And part of their forces as well, it would seem.”

“But where are they going?” Taden wondered, waving the other scouts near.

“More trickery from the Shadowfolk,” another scout muttered. “Those are Sheikah boats. They must have gotten word of our advance.”

“We can still turn this to our advantage,” he said. “You two, follow those ferries to wherever they lead, and learn whatever you can without being detected.” The two he had spoken with nodded, lowered their hoods, and sidled down into the rocks to make their way downstream. They unraveled grappling hooks from under their cloaks and made ready to latch onto either ship at the stern.

“And you two, return to Captain Ryssdal at the Bridge gate, and warn him of the Hylians’ movements.”

“Yes sir, Lieutenant,” two more whispered in unison, vanishing into the shadows as quiet as the wind.

“The rest of you, with me. We will strike the Hylians in their hold while their numbers are divided, and leave the army to attack when we know where their forces are greatest.”

He opened his hand, and the Twili insignia emblazoned on the chest of his Dusk Mail gave a faint indigo glow. Along the rock wall behind them, a portal opened up leading back to Ryssdal’s location. He ushered the reporting scouts back to the Bridge through the warp, then clenched his fist to collapse the portal and returned to his men.

With the last of the boats out of sight beyond the cave, Taden and the five remaining scouts drew their knives, and made way for the wooden docks where the vessels had departed. They ran along the edge of a steep incline leading up from the water’s edge, and broke from the main road to weave through the crevices surrounding the settlement. In the distance, he saw the tunnel leading into the Hidden Village at the far end.

“Fan out along this central canyon and secure the ridgelines. They’re expecting an invasion, not a raid. Wait for my signal, and I will draw their fire in the canyon’s heart.”

As he spoke, Blue Fire glinted in his eyes and glistened off the drawn blades of his Twili shock troops, but he suppressed it and drew the hood of the Hated Cloak over his head to melt once more into the night.

OOC: Taden and his Twili scouts find an underground river where the Hylians are moving troops and civilians out of Hidden Village, and sends two men to find out where it leads. Using a warp from Grem’s Medallion embedded in his Dusk Mail, he sends two more back to Simeon at the Eldin Bridge to warn them of the troop movements. Finally, he approaches the edge of Hidden Village with his five remaining scouts, and tells them to fan out along the ridges while he lies in wait near the entrance of the central canyon Seishi fortified that morning.

Darrel, already in awe of the transformation he saw in the ruin around them, was equally struck by the Red Ice General's tale. To have braved damnation itself, and dwelt within the Dusk Warp for aeons... It was a true wonder indeed, and the change he'd begun to perceive in the warrior's spiritual aura began to make sense. The White Wanderer had driven out the dusk, but it had left Polaris forever changed nonetheless, as changed as was the chamber in which they stood.

"Now, as I’m sure there are questions, I’ll have them while we wait for Lady Chiaria."

The whistle of releasing steam-valves and the blip and flash of electrical wonders of the ancient world, the rumbling roll of mine-carts down the tracks atop the spiraling brass catwalks was deafening in the pregnant silence that followed.

"I have only one question, friend," Darrel replied then. Polaris cocked one scaly brow in his direction.

"Yes?"

"How tight do you suppose Jaden's cheeks are right now, knowing that you earned the Chieftain's Mark before he did?"

He cast a quick look at Jaden and winked.

"Ha. Ha."

Mirra cleared her throat, drawing three sets of eyes in her direction.

"Perhaps, friends, we should find this mineral you've come seeking?"

Darrel was already on to that task. He knew everything that he needed to know of Polaris and his ordeals. If the Red Ice General deigned to share more then he would lend a sympathetic ear, but it was not in him just now to press. Instead he stepped away from the stone, leaving Jaden to ask what questions he may of the Zora warrior, for it was he who would be most affected by the answers. Instead he began examining the chamber in which they'd found themselves. Cavernous and broad, lit by the many instruments and the flickering mechanical lights, it had come alive since the stone had been activated. The hiss and churn of pistons became a persistent din, a white noise just at the edge of hearing. The catwalk tracks on which the empty mine carts whizzed by were held aloft by metalwork columns and buttresses.

He had taken to examining the craftsmanship of one such brass beam, when something drew his attention to the next in the line. What it was that had grabbed his attention he couldn't even say at first, simply a feeling, a sensation that ensnared his focus. The next support beam in the line, several paces off, jutted up out of a mound of sand piled higher than he was tall. He drew nearer, straining his senses, feeling the prickle in his mind. The sand gave way beneath his boots as he began to climb up the outer edges of the pile.

It was odd, he found himself thinking. It looked as though it had been blow intentionally up against that wall, so deliberate was the placement. He didn't remember seeing a wall of sand before, though in truth he may not have been looking.

He was about to turn and move on until he felt the sand shift subtly beneath his feet. He took a step back when he heard it. A hiss and clack.

The wall of sand exploded outward and something hard, something metallic, struck his shield and hurled him from his feet. He landed several paces away on his back, the impact driving the breath from his lungs.

The haze of dust and sand began to settle and through it he could make out a single enormous, alloyed claw grasping open and closed to the sound of hissing pistons. That single claw was as large as he was, and as he watched from his back it reared up and drove the sharpened tips into the stonework floor.

"Everyone! Swords!" He choked out to the rest as he began to gulp air back into his lungs.

The arm attached to that enormous metal claw began to work, pulling at the ground. Still the sand continued to fall, until the air was clear enough for Darrel to see that the arm and the claw were attached to something enormous, something with gleaming blue eyes flashing like lightning from a hole that had been hidden beneath the sand. Rolling to one side, he pushed himself up to one knee and peered closer. With the mound of sand no longer obscuring his vision, he could see that the outer edge of the Timeshift Stone's area of effect stretched to several paces beyond the inner wall of the chamber in which they found themselves. When it had been activated, a segment of whatever creature he was looking at had fallen within its border, awakening a piece of the enormous mechanical monster much as the stone had awoken the rest of the facility.

He backed away, staring through into the dark through the revealed hole. The arm kept working, clawing at the stone, tearing deep as it groped for purchase and worked itself free.

"This must be some kind of ancient guardian for this facility!" he called to the rest, rising back to both feet and drawing Morning's Edge free. The burst of bright orange as it came free illuminated deeper into the darkness beyond the hole just in time to see the thing rear back, shuddering wildly.

A second claw burst through the stone, widening the hole, and drove into the stone floor. One more wrenching pull was all it took, and the thing came free all at once, tumbling wildly into the broad inner chamber in a shower of sand and stone chips, the rusted out parts of its massive body becoming sleek, polished metal as it rolled wildly. A mess of twisting metal limbs clutching at nothing, it gradually righted itself and rose high on six pointed legs, leveling at him and that pair of razor-sharp pincers as a tail curled up from behind, barbed and bladed in brass, emanating sparks of electricity blue as its many eyes.

He had but a moment to look back through the hole through which it had come, and beyond he thought he could just barely make out the shape of something wide and rounded. Something with the glint of brass.

He had no time to speculate further as the tail lashed down at him from above, driving its bladed point into the stone and loosing coruscating bolts of lightning in every direction, one of which struck the face of his shield and sent him careening backwards into his allies.

Summary: Darrel cracks a quick joke, but doesn't feel the need to press Polaris any further, trusting that the Zora has reasons for sharing what he did and knowing that it will be Jaden who really needs to speak with him. Instead he begins examining the chamber, leaving them a few minutes to talk. Drawn to a hole in the wall concealed by a mound of sand, he quickly realizes that a pincer arm of some sort of enormous mechanical creature fell within the Timeshift Stone AoE and was pulling the rest of it free. It does so before long, exploding through the hole in the wall to reveal a big as mechanical scorpion monster: Metal Moldarach.

Mirra rolled out of the way as Darrel careened towards them and landed on her knee. She readied a radiant Light Arrow at her bow, and let fly a streak of white magic at the arachnid mech that had attacked them. It slipped past the machine’s claws to pierce one of its eyes, and it seemed stunned for a moment as a cloud of steam burst from its hoists and pistons, obscuring it from view.

Mirra rose from her kneeling position and scooted across the sandstone tile to reach Darrel’s side. With her bow slung along her waist, she pressed one palm against the stooping swordsman’s back, and poured healing energy into his spine and muscles. Darrel gasped at the sudden rush of vigor.

“You take the tail, I’ll handle the claws,” he shouted over the rush of iron and steam. The Sunrise Knight gripped his blade and shield anew and charged back into the whirl of sand and steam.

“Allies, if you have some secret knowledge of these Timeshift Stones, now is the time to use it,” she called across the chamber to Jaden and Polaris, still gathered by the towering gem. This scorpion had been conjured by its chronomancy—if Sheikah magic could disable it, the demon may subside once more.

Mirra sprang to her feet and jumped far into the air, bounding with an unnatural buoyancy to land along the catwalks. She nocked an arrow once more, and fired at the Moldarach’s whipping tail.

Her Light Arrow connected, and a shower of sparks burst across the high ceiling of the chamber, revealing a vaulted dome above them with spiraling rings of tracks. Carts rolled along the edge of the vault by sheer magnetism, shimmering chunks of Timeshift ore clinging to their bins.

“Mytura, bring the thing back this way!”

Darrel looked back over his shoulder and nodded at Mirra, then flashed his sword wide in the air to send a scythe of Spirit slashing through the creature’s claws.

He began to step back slowly, swinging his blade to and fro to beat back the monster. He ducked and parried as if four swords swiped at him from the upper and lower pincers of either limb. Finally, his back was against the wall, and as his heel hit the brick corner, Mirra let fly her arrow.

A Light Arrow pierced the raw Timeshift ore packed into a mining cart high above their heads, and fragments of the time-bending crystal rained down in rapid shards. Blue bolts crashed into the Moldarach’s bronze exoskeleton, and at last its left talon clanged to the earth. While its felled claw remained polished bronze, half the beast’s body now turned suddenly to rust.

The scorpion stumbled, until the rusted line of mechanical legs on its side clattered back to life, sputtering and choking on steam and electric sparks caught in its rusted plating, and it resumed its attack in a newfound rage.

“If we can rust the rear, we can ruin the rest,” Darrel quipped. He looked up at Mirra from the shifting sands along the floor. “Behind you, Lemeris!”

To one side, the dismembered claw managed to right itself, and sprang sparking legs of its own from the holes at its steamlaced joints. The lumbering claw leapt to the ceiling and raced along the spiraling tracks, bearing down on Mirra as its one-armed host below rounded once more on Darrel. He sliced his sword through the air three times in quick succession, and another Spirit wave crashed against the scorpion’s three rusted legs.

“Allies, make haste!” Mirra shouted from the scaffold toward Polaris and Jaden, unsheathing her shortsword to stab the lunging claw at close range.

OOC: Mirra fights off the Moldarach with her Light Arrows, using a spiral of mining tracks and carts over their heads to drop Timeshift ore on its left claw. She shouts over the chaos to see if Jaden and Polaris know how to deactivate the ensconced Timeshift Stone in the center of the room.

He was almost speechless upon hearing what had happened to Polaris. Whoever the heir was in the era that the Red Ice General had been taken to must have been in an extremely bad spot if he had to venture through Perdition. Heeding his friend's warning not to dwell too deeply on history for this matter, Jaden resolved to ask questions later, and also realized that in order to accept the Chieftain's Mark, then the Oath would have been taken as well. One that cements loyalty to the Crown and Shadow Folk among all other. One that would also supersede any Zora interests. There was no doubt in this, but Jaden also had to respect any decision Polaris were to make as though he were Chieftain. It made things a little awkward.

"I can't even begin to imagine how awful it would be to spend 1000 years or more in a realm of damnation. Whoever this heir was, you must have respected him deeply to make such a sacrifice. I will have more questions later, as this is more than intriguing."

Sobriety was becoming more of a struggle with the jokes being cracked. Jaden didn't laugh things off nearly as easily as he used to. Taking a quick swig of tea from his canteen, he did what he could to stave off withdrawal from the booze. Trading one master for another though, was that really sobriety?

Those thoughts and what not would be short lived. As Jaden expressed feigned humor at Darrel's remarks, a guardian came to life before the group. Darrel and Mirra were able to contain it as Jaden readied an attack strategy. His mind worked quickly to avoid causing further harm, but he also knew that he couldn't do anything with that timeshift stone just yet.

Suddenly, he remembered the coin that Senshi had given him. He'd tucked it into one of his hidden armor compartments, and got an idea. It was out of his element, but the more things in melee range of the Moldarach would cause more problems.

"Polaris, if what I'm about to do doesn't work, that time shift stone may give us another shot at this. Hold my beer."

The Red Ice General was thrown off by this statement at first, but he remembered what Jaden meant when he said this. He was going to do something that Polaris could work with him on that didn't require much thought.

Running the coin along Starcaller's flat, an electric current raced up and down the blade before gaining a charge.

"Darrel, heads' up!"

He could feel the storm's power building within him, but he didn't want to dwell on it too long. There was an active danger before them all. Coating his off-hand in Magic Powder, he transferred the blade to it, but that ended up causing a more dangerous reaction for him. The tattoo pattern on his right arm started to illuminate; namely the Ancient Wizard, the Mesmer. Light pink auras started to envelop the Sentinel, along with arcs of magical energy, and all of his allies felt their magical abilities receive a significant boost.

A moment later, the light faded, and Jaden appeared as a Celestial Aspect with flowing robes and a shrouded hood. Constellations shimmered throughout, along with a Weeping Eye on his chest. Starcaller had morphed into a wizard's staff. Echoes of uncertainty kept flying out of his mouth, as well as a few profanities.

Leveling the staff at Moldarach, arcs of Lunar Lightning began to fly out, but the first few missed. Once he was able to steady it, he used both hands to fire a very unstable wave of the stuff. It chained across multiple surfaces, but reformed and connected center mass, spreading the blast all throughout. It barely missed Darrel, and some of the blast flew up near where Mirra was. It was wild magic, and Jaden couldn't control it. The Aspect must have taken over to protect him and everyone else...

Polaris saw these blasts coming, and he figured out a way to encourage the corrosive processes. As Jaden was casting offensive magic for the first time, he laced Red Ice shrapnel into these arcs, as jagged as he could get it.

The Moldarach was fixed to the ground at this point, feeling the effects of Jaden's initial blasts. The Sentinel decided it was time for another salvo, and started sending ball lightning its way. Some of the blasts were deflected back by its tail, which Jaden counter-reflected with his staff and had to keep sending back, as the tail was still able to swing. He was keeping that limb occupied.

"More dismemberment, divide and conquer!"

Jaden's voice echoed with ancient wispy undertones as he kept up the ranged assault.

Summary: Jaden comes up with a crazy idea to try to defeat the Moldarach, but loses control of himself as the magic almost seriously injures him. The Celestial Aspect of Magic possesses him, and he resembles a cosmic version of Agahnim as he unleashes a series of ranged attacks designed to expedite the corrosion process, nearly causing friendly fire in the process given the intensity of said magic.

The Twili operative, glamoured to appear as a Hylian girl of two dozen years in a riding dress, looked utterly in place striding out into the middle of the dusty street, but for the furtive looks she cast in either direction.

"You should have sent me, m'lord," Coel uttered from behind him. "Bryn's an expert infiltrator, but her hand tends to slip when it comes to knifework."

Isaac snorted. "Lord?"

"Beg pardons..."

"Kinslayer."

"... Kinslayer. But my sister's no assassin."

"That's about to change," Isaac replied. For just long enough to give me a window.

A pair of Gorons, covered in iron pauldrons and wristguards and open-faced helms but bearing their thick, stony front and backs--but for a single band of riveted iron across the chest--came stomping down the main thoroughfare, heavy hammers gripped in their fists swinging back and forward with every stride. Bryn had moved out far enough into the middle of the street that they were moving straight toward her. She was evidently uneasy, but judging by the looks on the faces of every refugee Isaac had seen thus far that was no entirely unexpected. The enormous sentries would have to split to bypass her. Isaac peered, watching closely, waiting for her twili dagger to flash in the light of the setting sun. He saw her hand drift to the back of her belt.

The Gorons moved around her as slow-flowing lava around a jut of stone on a mountainside and fell back into step and continued on, and the Twili agent's blade remained in its sheath.

He grimaced.

"I told you, ah, Kinslayer. She's not much for getting bloody."

"No, but she has a keen eye," Isaac replied, for as he continued to watch her from his shaded alleyway, he could see her take a few steps in the direction of a clutch of travel-worn Hylians huddled around a tall figure in flowing robes of orange with a sash of crimson looping over the left shoulder across the chest and stomach and looping all the way to the hem of the robes beneath, embroidered in gold with the emblems of the Hylian faith of the Golden Triune. The cleric stood at the edge of a wooden porch. Flanking him stood a pair of Hylian guardsmen in breastplates and visored helms, bearing spears and shields with the golden triangles and the crimson phoenix on them on a field of blue, with capes hanging down their backs just past their sword belts. But where one appeared newly equipped, the other's steel was dull, dented and scratched, his cape moth-eaten, his bearing stooped and weary.

"... the faithful are ever tested, my friends. Threats in every hue of black have besieged Hyrule since time immemorial, when demonkind first squirmed out of the dark places, full of hate for the Light and Order of the new world that our ladies had together wrought, seeking to overturn it."

The assembled mass sat in the dirt, gazing up at him as his words washed over them.

"These Twili are but the last in a long history of interlopers inciting war against the Goddesses, and I admit that the vastness of their horde and the intensity of their animus toward us shook my faith and left me hollow. And as I sought desperately for a sign of the Goddesses' protection, every good turn took an ill one shortly after. They sent us champions and then they took them from us! They tore down the castle of Hylian Kings and filled our fair city with the dead! They devastated the south with magic, blighting our forests, and they sent an unnatural ice through our waterways and froze our rivers and lakes solid."

The words of this sermon seemed to have taken root in the crowd, and they hung on every word this priest spoke in his booming intonation. Bryn edged closer, Isaac saw, drawn in by the passionate speech.

"Come, let us go get your sister before she converts," Isaac growled, clasping his hands behind his back and stepping from the shadows back into the street.

The sermon had drawn more eyes, and other groups of refugees abandoned setting up their little tents or striking flint and steel into their bundles of twigs and dry leaves to draw nearer. Whoever this aged priest was, he spoke with an inelegant passion that enraptured those all around.

"The enemy, these Twili, now feel assured of their victory, and true to their name they have plunged Hyrule in the depthless black of night. The hour of the wolf is upon us, when the enemy's strength is at its greatest and it seems that no deliverance should come, but this hour is short and the twilight shall ever give way before the break of day. This I promise you."

As he strode closer, even Isaac felt taken in by the words. The nameless priest cast a peremptory look across the assembled crowd, standing a little straighter so that the roundness of his belly jutted outward, the thread of gold symbols on his crimson sash flashing in the sun's last, vestigial rays. Such a presence had this man, such a power to his words.

This could only be one man. Isaac was assured in that moment that he was looking upon the King of Hyrule, posing as a priest to give heart to his people and lend strength to their arms when the hammer stroke at last fell. Why else would a priest be guarded by armed men?

Safe within his illusion, he reached to his belt to carefully check his dagger in its sheath. The blade was clear and drew out an inch in total silence. His hand brushed the Sun Shard tucked into the back of his belt at the same time.

"Potent words, priest," he spoke loudly as he approached, beginning to push his way through the assembled onlookers. Few seemed to hear him or take note at all, so ensnared by the man's words, so ensorcelled by his elocution. Even Bryn gave way without a word or even a glance in his direction as he shoved her aside. "But I fear that your faith will go unrewarded."

"But of course, friend," the priest said, looking down at him with dull eyes, ones that seemed so unremarkable for one whose tongue was so silvered and potent. "Doubt lies heavy on the land, as ever it has in times such as these. But we have seen such times come and pass, and though the toll is ever high, we have gone on."

Of course they have,Isaac found himself thinking in agreement. Hyrule has faced the Ma, it has faced the dread lord of the desert reaches, it has faced the full fury of its elements, and it has faced its own worst impulses. The Lights have always risen as champions, bitter, broken champions though they may be.

He shook his head. No. These were not his thoughts. Not truly. Hyrule could be broken. It would be broken.

Why was there such a fog over his mind? The priest's words echoed like the chime of a bell reverberating endlessly.

"There will be... no snatching away victory this time."

The stooped guardsman shambled forward, straightening his back, straining to reach up and whisper into the priest's ear. The robed man nodded at whatever the hunched man said and fixed Isaac again with those dull eyes.

"Perhaps not, Kinslayer," the priest said, and Isaac felt something shatter in the air all about. His name seemed to hang in the stillness between them. "Perhaps you are right this time."

Suddenly eyes were looking to him from all around. Eyes were blinking in dirt-streaked faces as the Hylian onlookers turned their gazes to him and made to rise from their cross-legged crouches. Isaac realized only too late as he watched them climb to their feet all around that they were seeing him. Him. Not the glamour, but Isaac Kinslayer in all his glory.

"Faithful of Hyrule, this monster has come to kill me," the priest intoned deeply in that voice that bore such regal authority. "Take him!"

From all sides, hands snapped out to seize him.

Summary: Isaac watches as Bryn steps out into the street, but instead of killing she is drawn to the impromptu sermon a Hylian priest is giving from the steps of a porch to a small, huddled crowd, guarded by a pair of Hylian sentinels. He goes out to take matters into his own hands, but finds himself drawn in as well. The priest's words seem to cast a spell over those who are listening, and even begin to warp Isaac's thoughts. Eventually the priest calls Isaac by name, somehow recognizing him even within his illusion. The verbal recognition shatters the glamour spell. The "priest" then tells those assembled around him that Isaac is there to kill him and bids them to stop him.

As the last of his men disappeared into the weaving tunnels of Upper Eldin, Taden felt a sudden weight shove down on his heart, followed by a great lightness like he had never felt, at least not that he could remember. He looked down at the demonfaced mask on his hip, lifting its vacant glare up to see a new, silver light in its eyes, like the brilliant light of the moon. He felt a strange connection to the silver glimmer within its eyes, as if someone from a past life called out to him across time, across the sky. It was tied somehow to the airy lightness in his breast, and when he pulled his eyes from the shimmering Yeti Mask, the air in his chest seemed to sink as well.

“Strength of the Shaman’s Mask, once marred by Storm’s wake, now senses its sister in the sky…,” he chanted in the Yeti tongue, a verse from an old curse to rid foul winter weather, although the night was clear. Black fangs of rock stabbed upward into a dark sky, deep and blue, veiled in infinite stars. At the apex of the stars, the moon shone brighter than it had in weeks, giving a sheen of white to the cliffs and boulders and blackening all the more the sharp shadows underneath.

Alone at the lip of a cave, Taden knelt down and closed his eyes. Amid the swirling forces that clouded his mind, he needed to rest and focus. From the impression of a woman’s voice that had come to mind before, tortured—or torturing?, to the veiled moonlight behind his Mask’s eyes, unseen--but intimately remembered, Taden discerned the work of a primordial presence he had come to know in the Light World: the Shadowfolk. Prior to the foundation of a living realm in the Light, that dark essence had given life her stage; and while the forces of Dusk in this era grew ever closer to overtaking the Light, who knew what secrets lay hidden in her ancient Shadow?

The time had come, he decided, to unleash his own manifest power on this realm, to tip those scales on which the Light World balanced, between Dusk and Shadow. Deep in meditation, he began to conjure the image of a great, black storm in his mind, until the pale moon above began to funnel its light through a ring in the center of a thunderhead gathering over the canyons. Opening his eyes, Taden rose to his feet, and heard the first far toll of thunder echo across the rock, and heard the crack of lightning flash and shatter among the clouds. Like the underbelly of a roused bull, stormclouds rolled over the night sky with moonlight in their midst, but the threatening rains did not yet break, only filling the air with a damp, electric tension that pressed against the rock, and somewhere against the flesh of the hidden Hylians.

With a new glint in his narrow eyes, Taden looked down through the canyon at his feet to a small opening in the distance. Hand at his hilt, a crackling energy sparked from his sheathed sword in faint waves, as ripples of cold, glowing smoke drifted from its length. Beyond the crevice at the far end of the canyon below, he felt the warmth of the mass of mortals thronged together in their hold, and tasted their hot breath, their panicked pulses on the thick air. At last, he had reached the breach of the Hylian holdfast, and now only needed to wait for his assassins to infiltrate the secret corners of the base, from ridgeline above to tunnels underground, before he launched his attack.

OOC: After his minions leave, Taden senses the use of the Winged Light Medallion somewhere in the realm, but doesn’t exactly understand why his Yeti Mask (contained in the Storm Medallion) suddenly reacts the way it does, beyond some Yeti superstition. He meditates over the strange feeling he gets, and detects the influence of the Sheikah underlying both his previous psychic impression of a voice (Kae) and this new feeling of a familiar power being used (Jaden). He resolves to summon his full elemental force going forward to tip the strategic balance in the Twili’s favor, and conjures a storm in the night to try and counteract the Sheikah’s tactical advantage in the field.

"Whoever this heir was, you must have respected him deeply to make such a sacrifice..."

With a twinkle in his eye, [color=royalblue”If you only knew.”[/color]

Jaden had already moved to join the fight, summoning the aspect of a large spectral wizard. Joining him, Polaris circled and gave the monstrosity a wide berth, as he moved he began to infuse bits of his own magic into Jaden’s attacks adding jagged shards of red ice to the blasts as shrapnel.

The beast had slowed somewhat from the combined onslaught of all those gathered, its attacks were more infrequent, but perhaps even deadlier because of that. Drawing Winters Tide, Polaris took a step toward the beast and stopped in his tracks as a glint of bronze caught his eye. Turning, he found himself looking into the hollow from which the guardian came. There, jutting out at an odd angle from the wall was a chunk of the ore they sought.

With a quick glance back towards the others he ducked away and inside the hole in the wall.

Pressing one foot to the wall beside the stone, Polaris grasped the ore with both hands and heaved with every ounce of his being. The blasted rock didn't budge. Inspecting the thing from every angle imaginable he pulled, kicked and cursed all to no avail. The damned thing was rooted firmly. Held in place by time and...

Focusing he sent out tendrils towards the large timestone back in the chamber beyond, located it and cut power to the thing.

When next he tried the ore, he easily extricated it. Only, when he turned to leave he found the hole through which he had entered clogged up with the wreckage of the Moldarach. Sighing, he reactivated the stone only to have the piece of ore disappear from his hands and reappear back in the wall.

"Damnit. This is a waste of time!"

Winters Tide took form in his hands once more and in a blur he had swung the blade and severed the hunk of ore from the wall. Satisfied he stepped back into the central chamber and lifted the stone aloft.

Lia reached her allies just in time to witness Polaris carve the ore out of the wall. However, his previous act of activating the time stone meant that Moldarach was active and thrashing around.

(“Everyone! Focus on my thoughts! Do not let your mind wander from this message! I am absorbing the time energy and will be able to teleport us out shortly!”) Lia broadcast the telepathic command to only those in the Moldarach chamber, unable to reach Severa. She didn’t want to leave that woman behind - she seemed important, but there was no choice. Time was, relatively speaking, in short supply. She focused her mind for a longer range command, but kept it simple to ensure it didn’t degrade. It was unusual, the time field seemed to be inhibiting telepathic communication, but not transfer of energy - teleporting.

(“Severa, I will come back, I promise.”)

Lia’s body was resonating with the time energy, taking her already focused mind to the maximum possible heights of her own mental strength. As she focused, she could see Darrel, Jaden, Mirra, and Polaris all responding to her telepathy. Streams of telekinetic and telepathic waves were binding them together, though it was unlikely anyone but Lia was perceiving the streams. She had only seconds, as Moldarach seemed to be rearing up to attack, and would likely break the stream.

Lia sensed a single focused image forming between the team. Everyone had their destination clearly in mind. With enough certainty and power at hand, she mentally wound everyone even tighter, and unleashed the time energy all around them, converting it to raw telekinetic energy that would teleport them where they needed to go.

Just as Moldarach brought its body crashing down towards Lia, the entire group blinked out of the mine, bringing them all briefly to its entrance, where she rapidly tried to scan for Severa. Lia was unable to find her, but did get the signatures of Hathor and Roc. Confident she had them secure with the rest of the group, Lia teleported again, headed towards their final destination.

Summary: I didn’t specify where the group ends up, but Lia has teleported everyone to...wherever Matt says we go. She made sure to snag Hathor and Roc before leaving as well. Matt I’ll leave it up to your Darrel post to decide where the group ends up.

When he came back to himself sometime later it was a struggle to lift the pebble-scaled lids of his eyes, so heavy were they. Still he worked his pained jaw into a scowl as he became aware of the cold stone against his back, and forced his eyes wide. For a moment, the fiery flare of his gaze illuminated the dark cell in which he lay, just long enough for him to get a sketchy view of the rough-cut dome of a ceiling, so low that he wouldn't even be able to stand upright beneath its apex. There were no other comforts, save for a wooden bucket whose purpose he needn't guess by the smell of it. He felt no pain, only an immense weight in his leaden limbs and a sluggishness to his thoughts and recollections.

It felt, frankly, like he was waking from a psychic hypnosis of sorts. An enforced sleep. He had only momentary flashes of being taken. He'd been surrounded on all sides by refugees, most of them not even armed save for the odd cudgel or hunting knife they might have fled their homes with. He should have butchered them all, should have left Kakariko a smoking ruin.

And yet he hadn't. He'd fought, but his motions had been slow, his senses dull. For the first time in a long time, he'd been utterly and entirely subdued.

Gradually his forced himself off of his back, turning over as he rose and coming to his knees, not rising any further lest he knock his head against the low stone ceiling of his present accommodations. Instead he made a halfhearted hand-wave in front of him and loosed a thin stream of flame, bright orange but for the vague violet cast to its undefined edges, and let it coalesce into an orb that he set to a slow circuit around the outermost edges of his cell. It was bare stone, save for the bars of Goron forged steel. He'd always been able to tell their works from that of Hylian smiths, for their metals were crafted to withstand the harsh temperatures in which the stone folk dwelt. He could burn his way free, but it would take time. Depending on how deep below the surface they'd dragged him, it might be easier to melt his way through the stone walls than to attempt it.

Still snarling, he settled down into a cross-legged position and waited. Waited for the fog to clear from his mind, for the pressure to lift from his limbs.

A droplet of water, condensation or the moisture of some stream dribbling down between the minute fissures in the rock, fell from the ceiling and turned to a puff of steam against the glaring serpent undulating upon his bare chest. He'd been robbed of his arsenal after his capture. His grey jacket was gone, as was his dagger, and the Blue Ring he'd worn on his right hand, and the Sun Shard he'd kept tucked safely inside his belt. They'd left him his trousers and drakeskin boots, but naught else. And so, naked from the waist up in the relative darkness, he waited patiently for a light.

It came not much later.

Down the corridor beyond the bars of his cell, he heard the gentle pad of soft-soled boots on hard stone. Closer it drew, the thud of heel and slap of toes growing imperceptibly louder in his ears until the three figures came to a halt before the bars. The first was, as before, robed in orange with a crimson sash slung across his shoulders and falling all the way to the hem of his robes. The others, his perpetual guard, were girded in Hylian arms, one tall and dignified within his steel, the other stooped and wretched.

"Well Kinslayer, you've made yourself a fine mess this time," the robed man mused idly, reaching a hand up to stroke his clean-shaven face, with its perfect high cheek bones and square jaw. His jade eyes seemed to gleam in the light of his fireball lamp as he regarded his prisoner. "To think you actually managed to kill me once, not so long ago."

Isaac quirked an eyebrow at that, still sitting with his legs crossed, looking up into the man's shadowed face through the bars.

"I'm sorry, I've killed a lot of people over the years but only one king that I know of."

To his surprise, the words elicited only an amused chuckle.

"Indeed," the King mused.

"But," said another voice, rasping through the visor of his helmet, "neither is this man a ruler."

Isaac looked to the tall guardsmen at the King's left. Or, perhaps not the King?

"You want to back it up and run that by me again?"

Arms in gauntlets of padded leather inlaid with steel reached up and took hold of the helm, lifting it slowly away. The face that stared back at him, now revealed in the rotating light of his fireball, was regal, the gaze peremptory. It stunned him in that moment that he'd even considered that this other man could be the ruler of Hyrule for even an instant, resplendent though he was in his own right.

"Your Majesty," Isaac said in acknowledgement of the false-guard's true identity. It was a clever enough ruse.

"Kinslayer."

He looked away from the King then, and back to the man who stood front and center before him, garbed in fine robes fit for any lord or monarch.

"So who the fuck are y--"

It dawned on him an instant later. The lordly demeanor, the force and power of his words. The face he looked upon now was different than the one he'd worn before, but Isaac recognized the imperious eyes set within it all the same. Most importantly, though, was was the wretched thing clad in pocked and rusted steel standing to his right, hunched and feeble. It all made sense. The whispered words on the wooden porch steps. The simple words spoken that had shattered his glamour. The words that had lain a thick bank of fog upon his mind.

"The Pariah..." he mouthed softly in wonder, looking from one then to the other. "And the Plenipotentiary."

"The very same, Kinslayer."

"What in the black hell are you doing here Eyes? Voice?" He asked as in that moment another droplet fell from the ceiling, hissing away against his chest in a puff of steam. In that moment he was none-too-pleased to find himself staring at the old man's puppets through the bars of a cell. "I thought I killed you both."

The Plenipotentiary stood, if possible, even straighter and taller, and took another step toward the bars. He took hold of one, grasping long fingers around it as he leaned in.

"You did," he replied jovially. "And yet here I am. You didn't honestly think that the Scion of Order would leave a thing like you untended, did you? You've been making an awful mess of things lately, after all, as you Primordials are wont to do. The Scion sent us to enact this guise in the hopes that you might make a mistake. And so you have."

"But how?"

He smirked. "We're constructs, Kinslayer, spelled together by the Scion himself. You didn't honestly believe a little knife work would be the end of it?"

"Probably not for long," this time it was the King who spoke, though for as kingly his bearing his words lacked the same power. "But maybe for just long enough."

"Get comfortable, Kinslayer." The syllables struck him like a hammer, and suddenly he felt a strong compulsion in him to lie back down on his back. "There are pressing matters to attend to, but we'll be back before long. The King has urgent questions and you'll be providing us answers, willing or no."

Summary: Isaac awakes slowly, feeling the effects of what appears to be some manner of hypnosis, to find himself disarmed and placed in a Goron cell. He waits for a time and his captors arrive to speak with him for reasons unknown, but he soon realizes that he had their identities misplaced, and that he has been overtaken by some former acquaintances he thought dealt with.

“Ah man, ah man. I can’t believe we have to fight a zombie horde. Ok, you can do this Red, you can do this.” Private Shirt mumbled to himself psych himself up to join the fray. He was about to run in ahead of the rest of the Special Forces trainees but was stopped by Guerrier placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Red, was it? Why don’t you let my two friends jump in first?” Guerrier look at his bodyguards and motioned towards the enemy horde. The two gargantuan men smashed their palms together and let out an earthshaking battle cry. A second later both their bodies became engulfed in flames and they charged into enemy like Balrogs bursting forth from the blazes of Hell.

Guerrier addressed the entire training squad, “Those two won’t be able to distinguish friend from foe for a moment so its best if the rest of you stay back. Those who can attack from range should do so, but I need everyone else to protect a circular area around me of about ten meters in diameter. I will use that space to prepare an attack that will all but destroy the entire horde. It shouldn’t take long but if their miasma taints the area it will slow things down. Red, I need you to personally guard me from any enemies that may break through or dive-bomb from above.”

Private Shirt was a bit apprehensive about his roll, “Don’t you want one of the heavy armor guys for that?”

“No, they need to hold the line. I need someone quick on their feet like you. Don’t worry, I’ve place a divine mark on you that will help protect you from attacks. Now...” Guerrier took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. In that moment Red felt something odd. He could quite pin it but it was almost like a tension was released from that air. On top of that he could swear the eye slits in Guerrier helmet dimmed. It was almost as if there’d be a faint yellow glow coming from his eyes that he only just now noticed once it was gone.

Guerrier place his hand on the ground beneath him and a faint golden radiance began to emit from the soil, “…this will take a few minutes.”

Summary:

The Special Forces trainee’s are about to join the battle against the Undead but Guerrier holds them from running in and forms a battle plan. He sends his two Ma bodyguards in first and warns everyone else not to get close. He has everyone else protect him while he prepares a spell. Though doing so required him turn off his Ma power, which doesn’t go completely unnoticed despite his head cover.

Senshi/Sanctuary of the Essence Gems/Afternoon 3

“Ugh, why do we have go up all their stairs?” Misha moaned, “The entrance is already half way up a mountain. Who’s the asshole who though this place need to go up even higher once you were in the cave?”

“It might have just been naturally shaped this ways.” Senshi offered as a retort, “plus if anyone broke in, the defenders would have the high ground.”

“It’s up a frozen mountain! Plus the people hear were super mages. I don’t think they need the tactical advantage.” Misha fired back. She expected a quick response but was surprised when Sensei didn’t offer one. Instead he’d simply stopped in his tracks. After taking a few more steps the much shorter Misha could finally see why, they had arrived.

It was a large circular room made of polished white marble. A pair of staircases hugged the walls leading up to a balcony that looked to have a hallway behind it. It was the center of the room the drawn Senshi’s attention though, six chest high pillars with a gem stone hovering just above each one.

Senshi finally made his way into the chamber and approached the stones, “Part of me hoped these wouldn’t be here. After everything we went through to destroy these things 400 year ago, to think they just reformed here. We bled and suffered to keep these things from threatening the world and it was all for...”

“So why don’t we just used them?” Misha ask innocently. “If we can’t get rid of them its better we keep them in our hands instead of leaving them here for someone else to find. Plus if they’re as powerful as you say we could use them to wipe the Interlopers in a matter of minutes.”

Senshi shot a menacing glare at the young girl which shocked her as much as it did confuse her. “Go inspect the second floor,” he said coldly.

Misha slipped back into her Mikhail persona and reacted like a child confused over a scolding, “what, what’s wrong? What’d I said?”

“Just!..” Senshi started to shout but quickly calmed himself. He realized he wasn’t being fair. There was no way Misha could understand just how dangerous the essence gems were or how horrible the war they fought over them was. To her they were just taboo super weapon; the kind of things the Black Ops had no issue using. “Please, just go see what’s up there.”

Shinigami spoke up with his own two-cents as Mikhail head up, “She’s right you know. We could do a LOT of damage with these things. Hell I bet that’s why the boy wonder was helping with your telepathy, so you could use all six at once.”

“I don’t want to hear this from you of people. You’re supposed to be the antithesis of these things.” Senshi replied while unpacking the spear and axe he’d brought with him.

The demon offered an alternate suggestion, “right, my bad, we’re a bad fit. How about this we just take the light stone and give it to your sister or one of the two Scions. They’d be able to win the war themselves with that kind of power and then you can just destroy the thing afterwards.”

Senshi stood in front of water gem holding the spear hope to convert into a water weapon. For a brief second he almost considered Shinigami’s suggestion but managed to shake off the temptation. “No, no one should ever wield these things directly. The weapons are a much safer plan. I just need to figure out how to make them.”

“Oh hohoho, such resolve for your plan, but you don’t even know how to execute it. They young truly are foolish.” A voice called out from behind. Senshi quickly drew his scythe as he turned around to see the visage of an old woman floating above the shadow stone.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

The old woman seemed amused by the threat “Hmm..? I’m suppose I’m no one, not anymore. I’m just a shadow really. Of course if I was someone, I suspect it would be someone that couldn’t be hurt by that weapon.” The old woman pointed at the Shadow Scythe which instantly turned back into a simple metal shard.

Senshi cautiously reached for his sword but stopped short of drawing it, “Ok, so then what are you?”

“Oh hohoho, I suppose that is next logical question. Let just say I’m a memory the Shadow Gem held onto.” The old woman answered as vaguely as possible.

Senshi finally relaxed and let out an annoyed sigh, “So you’re telling me you’re an apparition the stone created to communicate with me. Let’s say I believe you and that the stone is sentient and what to have a chat. Why?”

“Because young boy, you want answers and he wants to give them to you,” she answer causing the Scythe to reform back into the shape it held when it was first created. “You’re correct the Gems aren’t sentient but that scythe has a soul and it wants to have a little chat with you. I’m just a proxy.”

The old woman notice Senshi and suddenly become intrigued and worried with the revelation of his weapons apparent consciousness. “Oh, you’re worried that you won’t be able to make any other weapons without sacrificing someone. Don’t worry, binding a soul an essence weapon is optional, we only did it with the first two to control the angels.”

“We?” Senshi asked having not missed the implication.

“Oh hohoho, how astute,” the old woman laughed. “Yes, I’m the shade of the Old Hag who created that scythe of yours. I also had a hand in the Sword of Lights creation. The Angels were somewhat unstable back that so we had to take measures to control them.”

“So your sacrificed two people and trapped the in weapons for all of eternity?” Senshi asked with disgust.

The hag seemed insulted by the accusation but was ultimately amused, “They volunteered for sentimental reasons. It gave them a way to protect and look after loved one.”

Senshi though for a brief moment before finally asking, “Tell me about them.”

“Oh, is that really the first question one want to ask. Don’t you want to get the point, aren’t you short on time?”

“It’s the question I need to ask,” Senshi responded firmly. “They deserve to have their story known.”

The apparition shrugged then took a moment to tell a brief history of Tendresse de Lumière and Vertias du Ciel and how they ended up bound inside the element weapons to keep the Angels under control. Though out of all of it, it was the common thread they both share that intrigued Senshi the most, Soldat du Ciel. That name kept popping up. He wanted to ask more about him and his era but now wasn’t the time.

“What about the Glaive of the Inferno and the Sword of Sunrise? Tell me of their creation?” Senshi asked, noting the odd omission.

The hag seemed dismissive, “Hmm? Those? No idea. They made we’re after my time.”

“After your time,” he questioned, “how can something be after your time. I thought you were just the stone’s projection.”

“Hey Senshi, I finished checking up here,” Mikhail called out with a well timed interruption. “Just five empty rooms and a sixth that I can’t get in.”

“Let me guess, the sealed one has a shadow symbol on it,” Senshi yelled back while keeping his gaze firmly on the old woman.

“Yeah how did…” Mikhail paused have finally gotten close enough to look down and see the hag, “who’s that!? Were we followed?”

Senshi didn’t answer and was instead more concerned with confronting the Hag, “You’re actually the spirit of the Shadow Gem’s former owner, aren’t you? You’ve probably entombed yourself in here to look after the place now that the Guardians are all but extinct. Which begs the question, why the ruse?”

The hag seemed more than a bit amused, “Oh hohohoho, you figured it out. Truth be told I figured if you knew the truth you’d bother me with questions I didn’t feel like answering. Question about eras that should remain forgotten and past wars to which the outcome wouldn’t be changed from knowing more about. In short, I didn’t want you wasting either of our time crying about the past. You found me out though. Well I suppose to be fair and reward your deduction I’ll answer one more question, but then you have to answer one from me. Better make it good.”

Senshi was starting to catch on to the Hag’s shroud nature. He suspected she would have said the same thing to him even if he hadn’t figured things out and this was just her way of convincing him to ask the correct question. While he figured he’d one day regret missing this chance to learn everything the Hag could tell him, he knew what he had to ask, “How do I make the last two weapons, and what is lost if I don’t use a soul?”

The hag smiled, “Of course, anyone who can use the gems and will there power into an object and forge a permanent link. But, I doubt you’ll be about to do that with Forest and Water. You’ll have to rely on a simpler method. Smash the gems with the weapons and force one of the shards into the weapon. That isn’t to say there won’t be draw backs. The souls are what allows the weapon to change it’s shape and to chose it’s owner. They can also aid the wielder in using the weapons power should they lack the aptitude in the element. Of course one could always be bound later.”

Senshi gripped the axe he had brought with him and approached the Forest Gem, “simple enough.”

“Oh hohoho, not so fast boy. You still need to answer my question,” the hag interrupted. Once he’d given her his attention she finally asked the question that had been the whole reason she bothered materializing before him, “why do you keep rejecting that scythe’s power?”

Senshi attempted to be dismissive with his response, “the people I wish to protect consider it evil. Using it around them is counterproductive.”

The hag knew better then to believe such tripe, “So what’s more important to you, keeping those people safe or making sure they like you?” She could tell she’d struck a never and decided to keep pushing. “Of course none of that explains why you haven’t been using it when those people aren’t around. So what’s the real reason? What are you scared of, yourself maybe?”

He didn’t have an answer, at least not one he was willing to say. The hag had him pinned. It was true he’d stopped using the Scythe because of how the other Light Warriors viewed it but that was just an excuse he’d always secretly been looking for. There was always a part of him the feared what he’d became if he tapped into its full potential. He’d already suffered greatly in the past from drawing on powers he shouldn’t and he lived in constant fear of doing that again.

The hag was of course amused by Senshi’s internal struggle and took her last moment to nail the point home, “I’ll let you in on an important secret. That Scythe, no Vertias, he grants power to those who will do anything to protect the ones they love. It’s a mindset you’ve always had but you never fully commit to for some childish reason or another. Embrace that way of thinking and you’ll be able to use the full power that weapon can grant. You better do it fast too. At least if you want to survive the battle we both know you’ll be facing once you leave here.” The hag let out one finally laugh as she slowly faded away.

Despite the weight of the hag words hanging over him, Senshi decided to leave the brooding for later. Getting the reason he came here from he slammed the axe into the Forest Gem splintering off a small shard. Taking the shard he forced it upon the side of the axe blade and willed them to merge together. To his surprise it actually worked and he repeated the process with the spear and the Water Gem.

“So should we say something profound or are we just supposed to stare at them in awe?” Misha asked in order to mock how mundane the moment felt despite the magnitude of what they’d just created.

“Let’s go,” Senshi said ignoring the comment as he turned to the exit. The implication of the hag’s final words was clear. Taur was on his way and they didn’t have time to waist standing around here. Nevertheless he barely made it down a single step before he stopped and turned back, “Damn it, I can’t leave these things like this. Shinigami lets take care of them.”

Several moments later the pair stepped back out into the open mountain air, except now Senshi was noticeably winded and Misha was visibly disappointed.

“I don’t see why you had to-”Misha started to speak but was cut off when the large stone door slammed shut behind them. They both froze for a second fearfully that the load noise might have started an avalanche but after a short moment of nothing Misha continued her thought. “Why did you shatter all of those things?”

“To make sure they can’t be used for a long time.” Senshi replied then grabbed the Water Spear in hand and let out a steady stream on the door. The water the made contact with the frigid rock quickly frozen into an ever growing wall of ice until Senshi was satisfied it was thick enough that nothing short of the Elemental Weapons could open the chamber again, “and that was the make sure they can’t be use for a very long time.”

Summary:
Senshi and Misha arrive and the hidden sanctum where the Essence Gems are held. Senshi has a brief conversation with the Ghost of the Hag who warns him to stop rejecting his Scythe. He creates the Water Spear and Forest Axe then temporarily destroys the Gems again and seals off the sanctum.

The stormwinds nearly knocked Mirra over when they appeared, whistling and ripping through the dense trees all around them. They couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black, save for a pale gleam in a distant clearing. She had no sign of Hathor or Roc, but she made ahead.

“To me!” she called to the others. “I can see light just ahead!”

Mirra dashed ahead of the rest, emitting a white aura making her easier to see, and reached the high edge of a wide ravine that overlooked a wading pool. Jaden was first to catch up to her, followed by Polaris, Darrel, and Lia behind.

“Taden’s forces are corrupting the area,” Polaris announced, his voice whipping across to the others on the frigid wind. “But the Hated himself is long gone.”

“Then this should be easy,” Darrel crowed, not hesitating to draw his sword and leap into the cursed fray. His boots cracked down on jagged shards of ice, laced with veins of Blue Fire that hissed and lashed out at his feet. The Sunrise Knight kept moving to avoid the blasts, even as the cold weighed down on his muscles and mind.

“Behind you!” Mirra shouted through the snows, loosing a Light Arrow into the pelt of a giant spider that lunged from Darrel’s flank. The arrow struck it out of midair just as Darrel turned around, and he waved a cheerful salute to Mirra through the haze before bounding ahead. Jaden leapt from the high ledge they stood on and ran wide of Darrel’s path to cover his back.

Polaris clasped his fist to form a long Red Ice spear and took one step forward, but Mirra stopped him. “Wait,” she asked, then turned to grab Lia’s hand. “I need both of you up here.”

While Polaris stood guard, Mirra faced Lia and spread her palms out towards her. “Put your hands here,” she said to the girl, acting too swiftly to explain. Lia stretched out her fingers and let her hands hover a few inches from Mirra’s. The two locked eyes, until Mirra slowly closed hers, and Lia did the same.

Slowly, the white light framing Mirra’s body from head to toe began to condense into an incandescence behind her eyes. She opened them slightly, and thin rays seemed to flicker and flash from beneath her lids.

Polaris spun on his heel to bring his Red Ice spear down on a spider that lurched into their circle, then unleashed three shards the length of lances into the column of arachnids crawling up the ledge.

Lia’s eyes flew wide and emitted white rays of light as Mirra’s energy coursed through them both, until a brilliant ring of white radiated from the ground around them and burst into the skies above in a majestic pillar, piercing the veil of storms and pushing the fell winds to the peak of the starry dome.

“Now!” she cried, and with the airs cleared, Polaris brought columns of Red Ice crashing down on the spiders that pursued Jaden and Darrel. The two of them reached the lip of the Ordon Spring fountain as the other three were instantly teleported to it from the ledge by Lia. The sudden warp had decoupled the spiritual link Mirra used to bond their power and banish the storms, and the pale light now left both their eyes.

“What black magick is this?” Darrel wondered aloud. A field of Blue Fire danced just over the surface of the shimmering wading pool, and when Darrel swung his sword close it not only lashed out and repelled his blade, but fused the pool below into a black sheen of solid ice.

The fusion rippled out until the entire pool was an obsidian black disc, with a layer of Blue Fire billowing inches above in coarse and tumbling waves.

“There’s more to the Hated’s curses than beasts and blizzards,” Polaris intoned, drawing close. He brandished Winter’s Tide, and the red glow seemed to hasten at the proximity to its opposite pole, until the five gathered at Spring of Ordon were bathed in its crimson hue. “Allow me.”

Polaris took one step onto the dark ice, and it withdrew at his advance, evaporating in blue plumes of flame as he approached. He burned a path through the center of the ice until he reached the center, then raised Winter’s Tide up with both hands on the hilt, let out a war cry, and plunged the blade into the fountain’s heart.

A maelstrom of red light and blue flame suddenly engulfed them all, and Jaden was barely able to knock the group down to their stomachs as Lia prepared a telekinetic shield at their front, sending the brunt of the blast overhead.

“Alright, now who knows how to draw this bloody goat god out of his hole?” the General griped, sheathing his blade as he rejoined the others at the fountain’s edge.

“I can,” Mirra answered, stepping forward into the water. “But I need all of you to join hands.”

’Not this again,’ Lia griped in her mind, loud enough for the others to hear. ’Do all of your spells involve holding hands?’ Jaden cocked an eyebrow and gave her a sideways glance, but didn’t let go of Lia’s hand.

Mirra stooped low in the waters until she was waist deep, then tossed her cloak and visor to the dry bank, drew a deep breath, and plunged underneath. The others bowed their heads for a moment, until a point of light began to glisten in the pond’s center. A faint ringing, like a birdsong or falling rain, seemed to ripple from the shimmering surface of the pool and fill their ears.

Mirra emerged from the pool in a splash and spread her arms wide, her eyes shut, her wet hair clinging to the curve in the plate of armor at her back as she tilted her head back.

“Awake, Ordona, awake! Now is the hour of our need, and thy grace the only remedy,” she prayed in solemn tones.

In a flash, the point of light before them erupted into a gargantuan being of the woodland, a Light Spirit resembling the herd animals of Ordon. The creature brought its massive, glowing eyes to bear on the troupe, then gradually shrank until it was barely the size of the goats it mimicked.

Without saying a sword, the creature knelt down to sip the waters of its fountain gently, then glanched up at Mirra and the others without raising its head. When it had drunk its fill, the beast suddenly scraped its hooves over the waters, and neighed in a gruff, almost threatening tone. It charged forward at Mirra but she did not flinch, and when it crashed into her she stood firm as the conjured avatar crashed into her breastplate, bursting into a blinding sphere of Light.

When the brilliance subsided, Mirra found a crystalline glass bottle floating above her outstretched hands, empty except for a mote of light dancing rhythmically within. She brought it close to her ears, and could hear the same mix of birdsong and falling rain twinkling within.

“The final ingredient for the Daybreak Sword, at long last,” Darrel said aloud, no small amount of awe in his voice. He stepped forward and held his hand out, receiving the Bottled Blessing from Mirra. “We are ready to return to Gigagoron in Death Mountain.”

“I can only hope we are not too late,” Jaden grimaced. “We wouldn’t have made it this far into occupied territory unless the Interlopers were on the march.”

“They will not have reached Upper Eldin yet,” Darrel surmised. He turned to Lia. “And even if they’re at Eldin’s gate, we have a way of getting around that.”

OOC: Mirra, Jaden, Polaris, Lia, and Darrel arrive at a ledge above Ordon Spring, and begin attacking the ice curse laid by Taden back on Day 3. She focuses on clearing the skies with Lia while Jaden and Darrel pursue the monsters below. When they arrive at the Spring, it’s covered in a field of Blue Fire, and Polaris uses Winter’s Tide to clear it. Mirra summons Ordona and receives the Blessing. Darrel adds it to his inventory with all of the other Daybreak components, then beckons Lia to take them to Death Mountain.

Severa felt a creeping sensation up her neck, the kind she only got when a plan had gone wrong. Lia wasn’t here anymore, none of them were. Their battle with whatever monster lay in this place had carried through the halls, but then had gone abruptly silent, leaving only a scraping metal sound in the distance.

Severa rounded a corner and peeked into the room where the fight had been taking place to see the all too familiar dome of time stone energy, as a metal monstrosity lumbered about. Moldarach.

(“We can't defeat this thing alone.”) Davus communicated telepathically from his current form, the jagged glass staff Severa now held. She didn’t bother replying to him, instead walking calmly into the room. Davus knew she had gained powers he hadn’t yet seen, but it seemed needlessly foolish to approach the creature. (“I see you have the confidence of your father. Do you also have the resources?”)

Severa shouted incoherently, mostly just noises. It wasn’t at Davus, but instead directed to the creature. She was a madwoman, intent on proving she could do as she pleased. Davus would need to give up this mission, escape when he could. Start over again. But for now he was helpless to resist as Severa rushed towards the monster. But to his surprise, she veered off sharply, narrowly avoiding Moldarach as it tried to turn too quickly and crashed into the ground. It was still weakened from its last fight.

(“Are you going to tell me the plan?”) Davus futilely continued to try and communicate with Severa, growing frustrated with his lack of autonomy. Given that he had no eyes of his own at the moment, he perceived the world through Severa’s eyes. He hadn’t given it much thought before, but realized now that he wasn’t just seeing through her eyes. Davus had a much stronger link to her mind, more than just telepathy. It was because of how she was controlling him, linking their minds and overpowering his through sheer force. It left him without influence, but not without perception.

Moldarach’s most recent crash to the ground had broken up a new passage into the timestone chamber, one that Severa immediately took advantage. She rushed into the timestone chamber, continued to ignore Davus’ attempts to speak with her, and slammed the staff onto the top of the timestone, holding it in place at the point of contact. She moved her hands down to where the two objects met, activating her solluna gauntlets ability to transfer magic energy between objects.

(“What are you doing to me?!”) Davus was overwhelmed by what he was experiencing. Severa was trying to erase him from existence, alter the timeline! He could feel the timestone energy being perverted by the technology she wore, technology made by Sirius. (“You must stop!”) with Davus latest protest, Severa finally reacted.

“Now.” She said calmly. “You see the universe for what it is.” The entire room fell away, the air itself shattering like glass around them, in its place a grassy field and clear sunny skies. But Davus could tell they hadn’t physically left the mine, but they had moved...somewhere. Severa continued to offer explanation, and Davus felt the sensation of being erased from history fade. He had been premature in his concerns.

Davus still saw the grass field, but simultaneously could see the Mine and Moldarach as if overlaid on the field but faded out like a ghost. The image of the Mine seemed to be flickering, and with each flicker the set pieces would change. The mine faded away and Davus was left just on the grassy field again, but only for a moment as a new image formed on the hill. One that was had to comprehend. He was seeing some kind of map, but most of the details were impossible to bring into focus. It wasn’t just the image of a flat scroll, but rather the map coordinates were spidering their way through the air itself, moving in all directions. The space around Davus contracted and then shattered, and suddenly he was in physical form, facing Severa. There was nothing around them. Nothing. Emptiness. Severa began speaking.

“We are in-between moments in time. We have not left the Moldarach chamber or the timestone chamber. We have as much time as we need here, in a manner of speaking. So settle in, this is going to take some explaining.”

Summary: Severa has a little bit of experience with timestones, having encountered them in the past and in other realities. She’s been able to manipulate it to essentially shift herself and Davus out of normal time, giving her a chance to explain something important to Davus, which will be covered in the next post.

Lia, Ordon Spring, Pre-Dawn 3

Lia called for everyone to join hands in preparation for teleportation. It wasn’t necessary for the mind link itself, at least not her own, but it did have a calming effect on the group. Considering the urgency and harshness of the previous few teleport, it was important to pace the next one out more carefully.

(“Focus on our destination, let it replace all other thoughts in your mind. See yourself there.”) Lia sent the thought to the group. With a gentle whoosh of the air in the space left behind, the group blinked out of Ordon and their essences rushed off to Death Mountain.

It was a strange emptiness. I lack of being within and without. A disconnect from not only the world, but from herself. The core of her being felt missing. She didn't know who she was, let alone where she should be.

But then something tugged at her. Not even a thought or a feeling, it just was. Almost like a voice, but without words or intonation. And when it happened again, minutes later, she clung to it, and found herself knowing she was moving, without experiencing any change.

A woman's voice. She couldn't place it, but it was familiar. It was anchored to the tattered remains of her very being, somehow. She could trace that tiny influence, feel its hook upon her, and where it was attached was a part of herself she hadn't known was left intact.

A thought, that was all, a single idea, summed in two words. pulling her along to the inevitable destination.

Daybreak Alliance.

And, in a split second that should not have even been remarked, everything changed. A flash, of perception, not light, blinded them all.

And when The brave Light Warriors traveling from Ordon fell once more into the normal plane of existence, they found themselves not in the heat of Death Mountain, but among the canyons of Kakariko Village. And they found themselves counting one more in number than when they had left.

Summary: Lynn is finally pulled from limbo, and ironically it is the connection from Mirra's Daybreak Alliance which frees her. When Mirra teleports with Lia, that binding snags against Lynn and pulls her free with the rest of the Lights, though it slightly knocks them off course and they all end up in Kakariko (not the hidden one) instead of Death Mountain.

Well, at least the metal was moving. Slowly, stupidly. But almost there. And the water was settled, the mud was stuck and drying. "Time to move."

Dragon first. Poor wings clipped. Sure, sure, the thing was able to handle itself, but so little time. Time, time, always the enemy. Those fools, just because she owned it, they thought they could use it all to their advantage! Wouldn't accept any help, would they, dear? No.

Well, so be it. It worked against them this time, isn't that ironic? So much ownership, yet so little control. The little seconds, slipping through a tight-held grip. Oh, how easy it would be to just let it all fall away... How easy, how simple, and how so very undesirable. No, no, that wouldn't do at all. "Time to move."

And then, the lake was empty.

Subterranean Cells - Night Three

In the depths, he lay. Dim, flickering light lit the edges of the catacomb, matching the flames which stuttered within him. Unwatched, he was, for the need to watch was gone with the words laid heavy upon his beaten brow. Shallow breath, after hours of shouting and snarling in rage, unable to hold back the words which bellowed forth. But that rage was quenched now, only the embers of his vast inferno warmed his soul.

"Isaac."

A whisper, a voice out of memory. Its breath teased through him; the flames guttered.

"Poor dear. My dragon egg. Isn't it time you hatched?"

Softly, providing sustenance, the voice murmured a wordless entreaty. The inferno growled softly in recognition. Sustenance, yes. Power. Fuel! The small, dismal fire which lit his prison grew, flaring suddenly in power and intensity. Rims of an unholy purple, just on the edge of vision, flashed around the bright orange edges of each lapping tongue, the inner white intensity tearing at the stones around him.

And in that blinding light, a depth of shadow. A shape, like a body, but cut out from the world, crouched beside him.

"No time for laying down, love. You've work to do, don't you?"

Umbra smiled at her most promising investment as a smirk bloomed over his expression.

Summary: Umbra has finished collecting the Duskshard from the Lake, and is tired of waiting for her puppets and pawns. Her first move is to channel Dusk-power into Isaac, to overpower the Voice and free him from his cell.

Davus felt it was odd to hold a conversation with Severa while he was in a non organic form, specifically as a weapon being wielded by her. After all, she had told him not to talk. Severa seemed to have like-minded thoughts, as Davus felt the sensation of a transformation being invoked. It was once a painful experience, but the pain of transforming was so familiar, that he Davus had no external reaction to it. It was also a quick process, being over in less than a minute, leaving him standing before Severa. For a fleeting moment he considered getting in a cheap shot and running, but standing between moments in time left no real options of escape.

Severa seemed to sense the entire internal exchange Davus was having, but didn’t directly acknowledge it. In truth she hadn’t severed the mental link with Davus, but it had become weak enough that he would not realize it was still active. She could sense his basic thoughts and emotions, but not much beyond that surface level material.

“My father left me a gift of personality, Davus. I need to explain things to people, the way that you need - needed, to kill. I can suppress it, and because I often hate people, I do just that. But some knowledge has to be shared or it becomes poisonous to the mind. And since my future seems to be shared with yours more frequently than I’d like, it’s time I made sure you know what you need to know.”

Davus blinked slowly in response while saying nothing. If there was one thing that both Severa and Sirius could induce in others without fail, it would have to have be confusion. They made sense while simultaneously not making any sense at all, and felt informative but typically left you with more questions than answers. It could often be addictively frustrating to even interact with them. It was easier for Davus when he could just give in to the compulsion to fight in order to escape something annoying. Severa continued speaking.

“This world’s timeline is stronger than most. We are in what is considered by most to be a core reality. Think of our universe like a book made of impervious material. You can turn the pages, read backwards or forwards, but any attempts to change the pages will fail - mostly. As it happens, only some of the pages are written, and the rest are nothing but ideas. Most believers would tell you that these future pages are words not yet spoken by the goddesses. And so when we glimpse too far into the future, we see only what could be, not what is. And as participants in this book, we are not meant to see it as a whole. The effects on those that attempt to do so would be unpredictable.”

There was no response to be had to Severa’s education on time. Davus stayed silent while she gathered her thoughts for further explanation.

“Lia and Ithan somehow broke beyond the barrier of the absolute. They did not stray from this reality, but went past the point of certainty. They visited a future that is not set in stone. It is possible for visitors from possible futures to come to us, but far less typical that we should visit our own uncertain futures. In most cases, attempts to change history either fail, create a parallel reality, or in the most extreme circumstances, destroy the universe in question. Ithan became extremely sick when he and Lia visited the uncertain future, and when my father - as Morton - killed him, he was really only doing him a favor. He was doomed to die within hours either way. His body couldn’t handle the stress of briefly existing in an uncertain state.”

“We saw his spirit.” Davus finally interjected. “He obviously wasn’t erased from reality, and the universe wasn’t destroyed. Explain that.” Davus felt unease. While they were outside time, flickers of the ancient mining facility filled the air around them. He didn’t feel like the two of them had as much time as Severa claimed. Nonetheless, he had no choice but to listen and wait for her to get them out of this situation.

“Ithan stabilized in death, such that his spirit was able to pass on to - to wherever it is now. He also empowered Lia so that she should potentially stabilize in time without dying. But I’m fairly certain that her exposure to this time stone undid that, and she has hours at most before death. She probably knows this too. But she needs someone else there to help her transition to the next life. She unwittingly was the force that helped Ithan, but if we aren’t there for her, she won't make it to the other side.”

“And that’s our responsibility now?” Davus asked.

“If you were willing to follow her here as a guardian, on command from my father, then there’s no reason you shouldn’t be willing to help her pass on.” Severa replied, and Davus stayed silent, but it was the type of silence that spoke for itself. Severa was right, he had no reason to change his course now. Lia needed to be saved, he knew in his gut that she and Ithan weren’t done helping the world yet.

“I’m still not sure I understand - we can more easily go back in time than forward?” Davus asked.

“It’s complicated. We all have a past, but we don’t all have a future. That’s the simplest way I can put it. Sometimes the rules don’t apply, sometimes they do. Or more accurately, the rules always apply and we just don’t understand the rules. Time isn’t a river flowing in one direction, it’s a prism we see the world through, and we can only focus on one point of light at a time.”

Davus put a hand up. “I’m not feeling right, Severa. This is all very fascinating, but I think we’ve been here too long. How do you plan to get us out?”

“There is a place that is always in-between moments of time. It’s been here forever. It transcends reality and thought.”

“Where-” Davus stopped his question at the first word. As soon as Severa began speaking of this forever-place, a temple was mere yards from them. It seemed like it had been there the whole time and he just hadn’t been able to see it. He was uncomfortable, like the temple itself was watching him. Davus very much wanted to leave and get as far from it as he could.

“Let’s talk to Davie before we go.” Severa said, walking towards and up the steps of the temple. “He’s the only way we can leave with our sanity intact.”

Summary: This isn’t well edited. Severa explains her understanding of time to Davus, and then leads him into a Temple that has been around forever in-between moments in time.

From the cracks and crevices of the ridgeline overlooking the Old Kasuto barracks, stars dusted the night sky and silhouetted a line of archers. The five Twili guard left in Taden’s contingent had taken up positions along the ridgetop, trained on the front gates and barracks built into a tunnel at the end of a canyon. They drew their black longbows back with Blue Ash powdering their arrows; with each archer ready, they awaited their lieutenant’s signal, and it came.

From the pitch black of the canyon below, a line of crystal blue light suddenly pierced the air, and Taden’s wet eyes flashed as the ignited Aurgelmir blade lit his bloodthirsty grin from below.

He charged forward, and with a swipe of his sword the lamp oil spread across the tunnel leading into the barracks caught fire, flames of indigo and cyan leaping to the passageway’s low ceiling. A spiraling inferno of Blue Fire formed in the tight passage, with Taden charging forward underneath, until he emerged on the other side in a column of flame that crashed through the phalanx of guards assembled at the sound of the sudden explosions.

Blue Fire rained down on the barracks from either side of the town’s central lane, as Taden’s archers released their enchanted arrows from above. As plumes of flame shot up from the tops of buildings with claps of thunder, he darted to one side and disappeared into the nearest of two guard towers. He sheathed his sword and vanished under a veil of Dusk that emanated from his cuirass as he ducked into the shadows.

“Torches! We need torches down here!” a panicked voice cried out.

Heavy boots and armor clanged in every direction as guards ran down from the upper stories to ground level, each carrying a lit torch kept at the ready by their bedside. But as they ran towards the door a fell wind suddenly gripped their company, and the light of each torch was snuffed out. Then, with a blue flash from the center of the room, Taden sliced into the closest guard’s back with his longsword, and pivoted to drive the point of his dagger into another’s neck. He kicked the second victim in the chest to free his knife, then sheathed it to wrap both hands around Aurgelmir’s hilt.

All the guards lunged at him like a crazed mob in the dark, until he spun around and blasted them all aback with a bright wave of jagged ice shards that stabbed into the ground in a glowing circle. He lowered his blade down slowly, then snapped it high in the air, and every shard of ice in the dirt floor whipped up and stabbed the guards in their necks, their stomachs, and in the flanks of their thighs. When the first ring of guards fell, he raised his sword again as the outer ring shrank back in fear, and with a warcry he stabbed his blade directly upward, bringing a column of Blue Fire shooting through the wooden ceiling into the floors above, until it erupted through the roof in a tumbling geyser of flame.

Taden appeared at the night flame’s apex, his robes and armor bristling in arctic winds, and he set his sights on the second guard tower. He sprang into the air at a high angle, then came crashing down on the second tower sword in hand, crushing the highest story of the structure and setting the next level aflame. Without stopping to attack the guards exposed in their quarters, he leapt from the collapsing wreckage to the ground, bringing a mantle of Blue Fire with him as he closed in on the lane of the central village.

Bounding into the air once more, he alighted a low rooftop with a nimble touch and darted along the spine, spreading the arctic fire behind him. He threw cold blasts in his wake at the buildings opposite his, and saw his archer’s Blue Ash-tipped arrows pierce the rooftops and burst into sapphire flames, setting off a chain reaction of icy explosions.

When the pale flames reached their peak over the town, and a conflagration of ice seized the aether of Kasuto, Taden charged directly into the wall of flames and behind them disappeared. The remaining townsfolk and guards tried to smother the arctic arson, even as the tops of buildings now reduced to ice began to crack and shatter into frozen ash. They strived in vain to stop the scourge from spreading to their ancient township, but the Twili’s arrows rained down from every angle like a wrathful winter.

While the chaos ensued, Taden made way for the caves at the back of the village leading to the underground river, where two of his other Twili guard had snuck into earlier. On the far side of the flames, he bent his head low and charged ahead under the oily smoke of the Dusk Mail, sheathing his sword and its light until he melted into the night’s shadows, past the radius of the freezing flames at his back. Under cover of darkness, he slipped inside the deep caverns, and began hunting the ferry that bore the evacuating Hylians.

OOC: Taden attacks the barracks at Hidden Village with his squad of five Ice Arrow archers, then breaches the first line of guards and begins wreaking havoc in the main village. He sets a series of buildings on fire with Blue Fire, dissolving structures into ice frames and Blue Ash, then runs under a Dusk smokescreen for the caves leading to the underground river while his archers give cover. Five of his assassins remain to give the Hylians hell, on a suicide mission to buy their lord some time as he hunts down the Ghost Ship. (The Twili assassins are expendable NPCs that anyone can kill off at any time.)

The rush of power came on him all of a sudden, a torrent of poison flooding veins already pumping molten fire. His flame had waned in the last hours beneath the questioning of the Hylian King and the old man's instruments. The Plenipotentiary bid him speak, and the Pariah judged his words truthful or false, and all the while the honeyed words lay heavy upon his mind and soul, and sapped the vigor from his body. But in a flash the weight was gone and the fire in him roared to life in time with the rotating flame making its circuit around the edges of his cell. White, orange, and violet, that single flame erupted, lashing at the hewn stone, turning it red.

In the sudden influx of darkness, the sudden rush of Dusk to rekindle his spirit, he felt himself changing again. No death and revivification this time; he felt his pebbled flesh hardening, fingers elongating, nails growing out into cruel talons that dug hard into the stone beneath him. His jaw was clenched as the powers warred within him, warping his physical being further than ever, bringing forth the serpent. He felt teeth grow to points and stab into his gums. The taste of blood, fire, and venom filled his mouth and poured down his throat.

"No time for laying down, love. You've work to do, don't you?"

A smirk bloomed over his expression, for in the sudden incandescence he could see a deep shadow, depthless but not formless. A woman shape.

"No," he replied, and his voice was gravelly and hard. "No time for laying down."

One talon lashed out, taking hold of the shadow-creature's neck and jaw within the veil of darkness, pulling the figure roughly toward him as he lay supine.

"I knew it would be you," he said as he held the thing's face before his, claws digging into what he thought might be flesh though it was hidden from his eyes.

He pulled the face down upon his, passing through the darkness blind to plant his scaled lips upon the mouth that lay within, kissing it roughly. The fires in him poured out from him and into it, not to scorch but to imbue. To mark.

He wrenched her head away from his.

"You formed the bond. Now it's sealed."

He shoved the shadow-thing away and rose to his feet. Full of renewed power, he reached his hands to the bars of his cell and took hold of the two center-most. They glared hot at the touch, and he tore them aside. Even Goron steel could not hold him now. He ducked through the gap and out into the corridor, able to stand at his full height.

"If you'll forgive me, I have possessions to recover and a few favors to return before the sun comes up."

Isaac Kinslayer - Goron Mines Exterior - Late Night Three

Blood filled the night air. Outside of the prison block in which he'd been sealed was a broad quarry spanned by an elaborate series of wooden catwalks. More dragon now than man, despite his human-shape, Isaac strode through the darkness beneath the stars, coat fluttering behind him, and his talons tore flesh and melted armor to slag as Hylian and Goron alike threw themselves in his path. He recalled being dragged through the area, to and fro as he had been subjected to the King's questioning, and he retraced his steps back toward Goron City in the depths of Death Mountain with murderous contentment.

The planks beneath his feat tilted into a slight descent and at the bottom on the next level platform a pair of Gorons in iron bearing heavy hammers awaited him. He caught one hammerstroke and wrenched it sideways, using it to deflect the second with a deep clang. Smoothly he ducked under their arms and slipped behind the lumbering brutes, stiffening the fingers of both hands as he released the hammer haft. Pivoting on one foot, he drove his taloned hands into the narrow area beneath their jaws where the neck should have been.

A burst of heat and psychic force through his fingers and their heads popped like blisters in a splash of fire, blood, and matter, all spraying across the scaly flesh of his face and exposed chest. Mouth open in silent laughter, he even felt some of the wet warmth on his tongue.

More came, more fell, and he pressed forward. The serpent writ upon his flesh writhed in ecstasy as he fed it blood and death, and he felt the furnace of his soul stoke further and hotter. His eyes gleamed through the murk, orange and violet.

Back inside, he passed through caverns glaring bright as molten rock bubbled and flowed, and as he passed he drew the heat out of it, wrapping it around him in a swirl of blistering wind, leaving the floors hardened and cool. Still, he pressed forward. Through enclosed iron grates and pillars of flame blowing from volcanic vents he passed, and out at long last into the halls of the mountain folk.

"... have the Shard now at least. We can only hope that the team dispatched to the desert will return soon with the mineral, and that the Lord Paladin's daughter will retrieve the last blessing in due time."

They stood at the heart of the broad chamber beneath it's low ceiling, upon a circular platform of stone. The King had thrown back the hood of his robes and had placed the crown of Hyrule back atop his weathered brow. Before him were the two others, the Scion's slaves, girded still in Hylian soldiers' panoply. The King had two hands outstretched, holding the Sun Shard in all its dazzling glory out so that all three could lay eyes upon it. Isaac's dagger hung from Voice's belt.

"And it is a certainty that the giant Goron can smith this weapon?"

"I have assurances that there is no better craftsman in Goron City than he. With every ingredient in hand, this blade will be a light to destroy the darkness. A Dawn to drive back the Dusk. The one named Giga waits at the forge even now."

"Let us pray to the Three, then, that the ingredients arrive soon. The interlopers will not long delay their final assault, there can be no doubt of it now. Kinslayer was honest about that much. The sword must be ready when it comes."

"Pity," Isaac said, voice a low grind as he stepped out from the threshold of the mines. Heads swiveled in his direction and on their faces was writ fear. "Pity that all your best laid plans will turn to ash. There will be no sword."

"Kinslayer," Voice said, and for an instant Isaac could feel the impact of his words like a physical blow, but no amount of persuasion could dim the inferno within this time. "How did you escape your cell?"

"Doesn't matter, does it?" he asked, stepping out toward the platform and delighting as they edged back from his approach. Stepping into the light, the blood simmering against his skin became visible and they paled. "I came here to kill a second King. Killing you a second time will be a bonus."

He leaped up onto the platform as the trio stepped back to the far edge. Voice's free hand went to the dagger at his belt as he leveled his spear, but Isaac's outstretched hand beckoned and as if of its own volition the blade tore free of the mailed fist. In the air it flashed to dark fire, and when Isaac's talon closed about the haft it was a dagger no longer, but the Glaive of Inferno in its fullest glory, tongues of violet flame rippling across the dark steel.

He stepped close, feeling the thrust as Voice's spear punched into his exposed abdomen and out through his back, tearing a hole in his tattered coat. His left hand passed quickly, opening the throat and robbing the Plenipotentiary of his only weapon. He fell as blood spurted from his second smile and gurgled from his first. Still affixed upon the spear, he brought his Glaive up and drove it down and across his body, driving the blade fully through the hunched Pariah's chest with such force that he was thrown backward off the platform.

Then he was alone with the Hylian King.

"Nothing personal, Your Majesty," he practically purred, drawing close as he reached back, brushed aside the folds of his coat and snapped the spear haft with one hand and ripped it out from the front with the other. The wood was charred black where it had punctured his flesh, and trailers of smoke curled off of it as he threw the pieces away to either side. "But this war is over."

The King acted first, to his credit, throwing the Sun Shard out toward him. A jet of sizzling sunlight flashed out at him, but the Brand on his chest wriggled and coiled, forming a shield upon his scaly chest that rebuffed the burning light, and still Isaac moved closer. Lips curled back, exposing a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth, and as he closed the distance between them he slapped away the King's outstretched hand, sending the Shard skittering away across the rough stone. Again he splayed and stiffened the fingers of his right hand and drove the talons into the flesh of the King's chest, gripping him tight and wrenching him forward as the ruler of the realm cried out.

Like unto a serpent, Isaac's jaw unhinged and his mouth fell open--wider than a man's mouth should.

He closed it around the flesh of the struggling King's throat, letting the teeth sink in and wrenching his head this way and that, ripping the flesh and letting the crimson flood spray across his face. He threw the King backward off the platform, turned his head and spat his royal neck out upon the stone.

The Brand flared brighter and hotter than ever, swirling and writhing over him as it fed on the souls of the deceased. For a moment Isaac simply stood, staring down at his handiwork and reveling as the power suffused him. Then he stepped down off of the raised stone and took hold of the Glaive, ripping the blade free from Eyes' chest, then crossed over to the far wall and scooped the Sun Shard up where it lay. For an instant he thought of their words and considered going to kill the Goron named Giga.

But no, he couldn't yet could he? To get what he wanted, the Light Warriors and their misguided Daybreak Alliance needed hope. The hope of a sword that could save them all. Instead, he tucked the Shard back into his belt and headed outside into the night air. As he emerged, the horns were beginning to blare their dirge through the dark, and from the slopes below he could hear the rumbling cries of Gorons who knew of his presence. He didn't wait for them to descend upon him, instead throwing himself up into the night in a tail of violet flames, ascending toward the infernal mouth of Death Mountain, high above the stone city.

If the Lights wanted their sword, then the Sunrise Knight could come and face him for the final piece. There could be no avoiding a reckoning between them any longer.

Summary: Isaac gets a power surge from Umbra and escapes his cell. He kills his way through the Goron Mines and finds the King, the Plenipotentiary, and the Pariah in the city's main chamber. Voice's powers have little effect this time since he's prepared and bolstered by an infusion of Dusk, and he takes great pleasure in killing all three, the King last. He reclaims the Sun Shard and considers going to kill Giga, but decides instead to use the hope of the Daybreak Sword to force Darrel to face him at the mouth of the Death Mountain volcano.

It came through not as a coherent thought, so much as a spiritual sensation. An elemental truth. Something about the teleportation process opened them to certain things that might otherwise have gone unheard or unfelt, but in that moment Darrel felt something that had been forgotten suddenly rekindled.

In an instant that seemed an eternity, they came to be in the center of a broad, dusty thoroughfare. Cognizance of the world returned in an instant, and he found himself kneeling on one knee hunched over with the rim of his shield planted in the dirt, leaning on it for support. He blinked, lifted his head, and cast about through the gloom and the flickering orbs of light created by torches and lamps and refugee fires. Kakariko Village. Somehow they'd not been transported fully to Death Mountain where the smith awaited them. They'd been held back. Diverted. The ascent up the mountain slopes would take hours more that they did not have.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked as he used his shield to climb to his feet. With his free hand he brushed the dirt from the knees of his trousers.

"We are all here," Mirra's voice came back through the dark. "Though here is not where we meant to be."

"Lia?"

"Something pushed us off course, obviously."

"I have a feeling I know what that might be," came another voice. As his eyes began to readjust to the twilight and the torch-flames around them, Darrel made out a figure that had not traveled with them out of Ordon, but one he knew nonetheless. She stepped closer and he could make out the tumble of silver-blonde hair, and though her face was concealed by the play of shadows across it, he could envision in his mind's eye the severe expression so often fixed upon it.

His hand drifted to Morning's Edge at his hip, though he only rested his palm upon the sunburst on its pommel.

"Lynn Annei," he said. "What game do you think you're playing here? Do you mean to keep us from the Goron forges for some fell purpose?"

Even as he spoke the words, they felt wrong to him. Daybreak Alliance. He could still feel, some fundamental truth. She was as much a part of it as he, irrespective of their personal animus. And yet the prickle at the back of his neck would not relent. He was caught between wariness and a sense of the need for trust. He wondered if the others felt it too, in their hearts.

Just then, as a pregnant silence fell upon the group, horns sounded through the night air, first high upon the mountain slopes above, then descending post by post until the horns in the village itself began to sound their low, reverberant drone, a blare of alarm and mourning both. All around, voices could be heard beneath the blaring notes as the villagers and refugees alike began to pick up on the pattern. It was not, he realized, a warning of impending attack, but a proclamation of tragedy.

"The King is dead!" he heard one woman cry out through the murk. More voices cut through to echo the lament, or wail for the hopelessness of their cause.

As if to punctuate that cry, the earth lurched beneath their feet, sending folk stumbling to their hands and knees. A fountain of liquid fire surged up into the twilight from Death Mountain's apex, casting Kakariko Village in a hellish red glare. Using his right hand, he shielded his eyes and stared up the slopes toward Death Mountain's cavernous mouth. There, within the broader flare of the volcano's eruption he could make out a point of white-gold light, a single beacon shining brilliantly and clearly against the infernal plume, a point of purest daylight in the falling dark.

"Kinslayer," he said aloud so that the rest could hear. "He's here. He's slain the King and agitated the mountain."

"He's one man," Polaris cut in, even as he brandished Winter's Tide. "We are many. More even than a few minutes ago. Let us end him quickly and be done with it."

But shortly after the words died before a gust of arid wind down off the mountain, a new sound joined the din. The clangor of armor as Hylians began to appear from below the earth, emerging from the well that watered Kakariko Village. A few soldiers, and a great many ragged refugees began pouring out into the gloom of the village's single street. Too many voices obscured the words of any one, but the truth was plain to all.

The Hidden Village was under attack. The evacuation had begun. Cries of Twili and the Hated came through clear even amid the clamor.

"There's no more time," he said softly, but loud enough that his companions could hear. He pulled the pouch off of his belt that contained the blessing and the mineral within. "They're coming. We can't all go; some need to remain here and defend Kakariko. Others need to bring these pieces to Giga up in Goron City so he can get to work.

"And one of you is going to have to come with me to face the Kinslayer." He looked at each in turn, even Lynn, but his gaze finally alighted on Jaden, the Sentinel of the Shadow Folk and his brother in arms. "What say you, Jaden? One more time, together?"

Summary: Darrel regains awareness in the middle of the Kakariko Village street. He has had some sort of spiritual awakening during the teleportation process, and has mixed feelings about Lynn's appearance with the group. Debate is cut off, though, as the horns announcing the King's death begin to sound, followed shortly by an eruption from Death Mountain's peak. Realizing that Isaac is behind both of those things and Taden is behind the sudden flood of refugees appearing up from the Kakariko well and the underground river beneath it, he says that they still have one final ingredient they need to forge the Daybreak Sword, and that they'll need to split up so that he and one other can get the Sun Shard from Isaac, others can bring the other ingredients to Giga in Goron City, and the rest can stay and defend the village as it comes under assault. He asks Jaden if he's up for one more joint mission as the end of the war comes into view.

Mirra gasped at the chaos they encountered in the old mountain village: the cries of refugees, mourning their king and country, and the drums of war from the peaks above. Even as the fires leapt from the distant crag, she took the large satchel from Darrel’s hand and fastened it to her mail skirt, under her robes.

“This war is not yet over,” she called out to her companions. “As long as Hylian, and Zora, and Goron fight together, there is hope for our land!”

A horn blared over the rooftops of the settlement, shaking the village to its foundations with the movement of the earth. She turned to Lia, still mounted on Hathor with Roc at her shoulder.

“The Kinslayer attacks from above, and the Hated from below. We must make our way into the mountain while the others hold them at bay.”

Lia nodded, and stretched her arm out as Hathor charged forward, scooping Mirra up and into the saddle at Lia’s back. She tossed the satchel into the air, and it was caught in Roc’s talons, who swiftly glided off over the warming air and up the mountainside.

“We’re right behind you, Roc!”

As her gyrfalcon flew ahead, Mirra and Lia raced up the rocky paths of Death Mountain Trail, making their way for the caves of Goron City. Falling rocks exploded from the skies and blocked their path, but with flames licking her nostrils and flickering from her hooves, Hathor crashed through them, leaving Lia and Mirra to duck under the sparks and ash.

“We must hurry! There will be no chance of teleporting in these conditions,” Lia shouted over the din to Mirra behind her. Taking the reins herself, Mirra urged the warpig mount on until they reached the lip of a large cave, with Roc waiting for them on the perch of a small wooden sign.

As they arrived, a troop of Gorons emerged from the darkness with a robed sage at their rear. The chieftain raised one large hand and trained his gruff frown on the two adventurers.

“By the way he was talking about this Daybreak Alliance, I was expecting more than a couple of girls and their pets,” one of the guards griped.

“Silence, son, this is no time for your mouth,” he chieftain barked to his subordinate, then turned to Mirra and Lia. “Where are your companions?”

“My lord, the primordial sorcerers are upon us,” Mirra began. “Our brethren face the Kinslayer in the crater of your mountain, and the Hated in the slopes below. We count Gigagoron, your blacksmith, amongst our order, and we must call him to duty now!”

Lia hopped down from Hathor and took the satchel from Roc’s beak. She turned to the Chieftain and abruptly shoved it in his hands without a word.

“Say no more, child, we will tend to this at once,” the Chieftain intoned, understanding already. “Giga has foretold your arrival these past moons.”

Another rumble of volcanic eruption shook the premises, and Mirra and Lia startled, but the Gorons seemed unperturbed.

“It will take more than a few explosions and wizards to quiet the Gorons’ forge!” the Chieftain cried out suddenly, raising the parcel over his head to the cheers of his guards. “Quickly, to the smithy!”

With that, the Gorons curled up into balls once again, and sped off into their dark halls, the light of distant fires far below casting a warm hue in the distance.

“Well, we made it this far,” Lia said once they were alone again. “No point turning back now.”

She saddled up on Hathor again and reached out her hand to Mirra. Mirra mounted the boar as well, and Roc flapped to her shoulder.

“Alright, girl, let’s see what you can really do,” Lia slapped Hathor’s reins, and the pig took off towards Death Mountain’s highest reaches with a squealing roar. Behind her, Mirra lowered her white visor, and shrugged Roc off into the harsh skies above.

OOC Mirra and Lia ride Hathor up Death Mountain until they reach Goron City, and leave the Daybreak Artifacts with the Chieftain to deliver to Giga. Giga will start forging the sword, and be ready to add the Sun Shard once it’s acquired. Mirra and Lia then continue up the mountain towards the Crater, to confront Isaac alongside Darrel and Jaden.

Chaos greeted him like an old friend. As he emerged from the stonework well, the throngs of Hylian villagers and refugees swarmed in every direction, panicking with apocalyptic fervor—“The King is dead!” and “All is lost!” they cried, as stormclouds gathered overhead. While the erupting peak of Death Mountain glared on the horizon, its fires were obscured except for their thundering roar by a sudden veil of fog.

Taden pulled the hood of his longcoat high over his white hair as he ducked into the maddening crowd, swiftly moving unseen through the mob. Even in the foray, he could sense the proximity of two who had borne his Relics and lived: the ones called Annei and Eridanus. Their auras had changed since last they had crossed paths with those shards of his soul, but the imprint was unmistakable still. Fate had brought them hither.

“General!” he cried out, his voice breaking over the shouting crowd like a thunderclap as he unsheathed his sword, and loosed a wave of Blue Fire upon the masses. In an instant, bodies fell to the ground and shattered into piles of frost, as the dark flames lapped over the earth and reached out towards the Red Zora. “…We meet again.”

With a jolt, he leapt over the trail of frost between them, stirring up the frozen remains of his victims into a funnel of ice that swirled around him as he flew, then spun in midair to send more waves of Blue Fire lancing across the commons. High, curved walls of ice rose up around them, giving them an impromptu arena in which to spar.

“You empty vessels each faced but a fraction of my power at the Castle and the Laboratory,” he called down mockingly from the air, holding his blade Aurgelmir aloft to taunt Polaris. “You cannot imagine the heights to which I have climbed ere now.”

Without descending from the skies, Taden whipped his sword sideways, and sent a barrage of ice spikes from the ridges of his arena walls down upon his foe, then readied to parry any counterattack. He had lost track of Lynn during his attack on the crowd, but could sense that she was still nearby. He called out to them both as the first gusts of his conjured blizzard began to sweeping down from the clouds that churned above.

“Only fitting that you meet your end on the eve of Hyrule’s destruction,” he laughed, cackling as the flaming rocks of the volcano smashed through the black snowclouds. “Your war is lost, your alliance has deserted you, and now the Hated comes for you both.”

OOC: After Darrel and Jaden depart for Death Mountain, Taden starts indiscriminately mowing down Hylians to get a rise out of Polaris and Lynn. He finds them, or at least Polaris, and attacks him directly.

“Only fitting that you meet your end on the eve of Hyrule’s destruction,” he laughed, cackling as the flaming rocks of the volcano smashed through the black snowclouds. “Your war is lost, your alliance has deserted you, and now the Hated comes for you both.”

Frozen missiles of the Hated’s design crashed down around him like rainwater as the General raised his gaze to the heavens and beheld his old nemesis, Annei was nowhere to be seen, but he knew she was lurking.. Somewhere. He could sense her with his Mark, but her exact whereabouts were shielded to him. She was a part of the darkness. Preparing to do that night work that her kind did best. He didn’t have time to worry himself over whom exactly she intended to unleash her skillset upon. She had two options and the General had no clue as to which side she now stood on.

”Only fitting that you rose so high, while I fell and fell again, forced to claw my way through first the Pit and then the Warp. Oh! The path I’ve walked betwixt hell and time would make even you shiver. I’ve met with demons more fierce than thee Horwendil. True demons borne of the abyss. Not sad little boys playing at it like it’s some sort of game.”

A crimson fist rose slowly, Winters Tide materialized in it as if called forth from the aether and his sword arm burst into a howling torrent of Red Ice, it was impossible to discern the point at which blade and arm met. He was fluid and smooth, graceful in his violence as he slashed through the night air cleaving the nearest missile cleanly in two. The projectile formed by the Hated began to hiss and spit like animal fat in the pan until steadily, its color changed to that of the scaled general and was absorbed by the sword.

”My war has raged for millennia with and without the members of this alliance so let us not imagine that their departure causes me any disquiet. For as you’ve said yourself, The Hated comes for me," He thrust his blade skyward and a bolt of blood red magic burst towards the heavens, piercing the heart of a thunderhead above. With an instantaneous peal of thunder the cloud belched forth a bolt of crimson lightning across the sky and a bloody rain began to fall both inside and out of Taden’s makeshift arena. Those villagers seeking shelter from the maelstrom found their houses, shacks and hovels cradled and enclosed in a protective shelter of red ice, as for those stragglers still wandering the streets and hiding in the dark corners Polaris could only hope that they sought refuge before all was closed to them.

A pillar of Red Ice burst from the ground beneath Polaris’ feet, bringing him into the skies from which Taden taunted, and as he rose to those lofty heights Polaris bowed cordially ”And he kindly saved me the trouble of seeking him out. There was alway going to be a reckoning between you and I and our Sheikah friend. The scales are sorely in need of balancing. Now is as good a time as any for a bit more Order.”

Breaking into a run Polaris made to close the gap between he and his foe as crimson pillars exploded into existence to meet his every step, jutting from the cold ground hundreds of feet below. Lashing out with his free hand the General snagged another of the frozen spikes still raining down around them, and spinning on the spot he used its momentum to his advantage so that he merely had to guide it to a new target. Redirected the frozen javelin hurtled towards its maker, while with an audible snap the storm that was Winters Tide detonated outwards, roiling through the night sky, jets of red ice lashing out at odd angles as it bore down on he who had once used Polaris as a vessel.

Summary:

Polaris protects the remaining Hylians as best he can and opts to assault Taden head on while wondering briefly whose side Lynn is on.

IC: Taden Horwendil / Kakariko Village / Long Night 3
“The scales are sorely in need of balancing. Now is as good a time as any for a bit more Order.”

While Polaris preached, Taden searched the air around them for the heat he had felt from Lynn Annei, but the Zora mage’s simmering blood rain had made the air all a blur. He had doused Taden’s arena of ice in a deluge of blood magic, and blanketed the village beyond in its warmth. She could be anywhere.

“You’ll lose more than your scales trying to right that balance,” Taden quipped, freezing Polaris's jagged blood missile in midair, “but then, what is flesh to one who has already lost his soul?”

Taden burst the frozen missile into a cloud of Blue Fire that exploded as Polaris advanced, stalling his charge enough for him to draw Aurgelmir and parry the claymore blow. Polaris’s reflexes were quick, though, and with Winter’s Tide melded into his arm he was able to spin around and slam the blade into Taden’s ribs without adjusting. The chryomancer fell while the Red Ice General stood poised on his pillar.

He touched down on one of the red columns the zora had raised, battered but not injured where the blade had struck his Dusk Mail, and he looked up at his foe. Their eyes met, Taden’s cool grey stare latching on to Polaris’s red leer looking down from above, and he sunk his foot back into a low stance with Aurgelmir drawn high over his head. He smirked. And with a wordless wave of his lower hand, he taunted the Zora to dive.

At once, they both leapt from their columns, Taden rising into the air as Polaris bore down, and Winter’s Tide met Aurgelmir in foreordained conflict. They traded blows methodically around the line of pillars Polaris had raised, Taden chanting a low curse methodically all the while.

“You may lend your red fury to the ire of the Three, and hunger for their feast of Order,” Taden muttered, bouncing off Polaris’s blade and alighting the opposite post, “but my Blue Fire shall forever oppose thee, with all the cold burn of Hatred.”

Taden’s curved longsword slashed against Polaris’s claymore, great ripples of red heat and Blue Fire emanating from each encounter. While he hovered through the air and propelled himself for each strike, Polaris danced expertly from column to column, until Taden reached the highest spike, and Polaris the one below. He readied for another strike, but then noticed Polaris lingered on the low ground. He would expect the ancient general to seek the higher position, unless…

“You grow reckless in your old age, General,” Taden bemoaned. “Would that you had known me when I was a boy, like your newfound ally not so long ago.”

Before their next blow, Taden’s curse took hold on the ground below, and he felt the icy sheen of his Blue Fire creep up from the remnants of his ice walls. A ring of Blue Fire now rose up in the center of the village otherwise blanketed in Red Ice, where their fight had begun. And then he found her. Within the ring, he sensed a slight warm body moving swiftly, positioning itself among the roots of Polaris’s columns far below.

“She has rid herself of your corruption, as have I,” Polaris rejoined, casting a crimson glare around the edges of his sword.

“Ah, but is it certainty that crowns your brow, jeweled by faith in your newfound friends, or does some doubt still linger there, with the weight of time still heavy on thee?” Taden asked.

He suddenly dropped his fighting stance and ducked away from the high pillar, diving down below and conjuring the winds around him to break his fall. Polaris could conjure the Red Ice, even convert the skies to its making, but if he needed the columns to chase Taden skyward, could the Zora fly?

When he reached the ground, he let loose a broad swing of his sword in every direction, sending more waves of Blue Fire through the area and establishing a frozen perimeter under his control. The flames hacked away at the Red Ice columns, until they began to crack and buckle, their bloodred sheen slowly eroding into Blue Ash.

The display of power worked, as from behind he sensed the oncoming attack of Lynn Annei, striking out in the open now that she knew her cover was blown. Reaching behind himself, Taden slapped her thin blade away and pulled her wrist forward, unsheathing his own Hated Knife to bring it to her pale neck.

At its touch, the black blade hissed into the Sheikah’s soft skin, fusing in place with the icy touch of its metal on the sweat from beneath her cowl, pulled down now to expose her collarbone. Slowly, tongues of Blue Flame etched into her feet, crawling up her legs until reaching her waist, fixing her in place.

“You should know better than to backstab a backstabber, especially one you trained,” he whispered in her long ear, then searched the skies above for Polaris. The streaks of blood rain splashed in his face, but ironically, he could sense the Zora against the red maelstrom above by his cold blood, standing atop the nearest pillar to them.

“Let’s see how far your loyalties truly lie, General. I’m sure you remember this blade?” Taden chided, adding a bright flare of Blue Fire to the Maskmaker's Knife at Lynn's neck, slowly coating her with rime that spread upwards toward her mouth and eyes. “You could destroy us both from on high, with all the wrath of your bloody heavens, or risk your life to save hers, in the pit of my frozen hell!”

OOC: Taden observes that Polaris’s Red Ice storm has warmed up the environment, causing him to lose track of Lynn’s heat signature. He explodes Polaris’s projectile, and they begin to duel on the Red Ice pillars. Eventually, Taden drops to the ground, testing whether Polaris can jump but not fly. By this time, he had restored a ring of Blue Fire around his ice walls, and he was able to detect Lynn moving quickly into the ring. He grabs her and pulls the Hated Knife to her neck, holding her pinned to the ground with a film of ice on skin, and dares Polaris to come closer.

“Who are you?” Davus was angry, but his tone was far removed from his traditional voice of anger. It was more pained, a denialists voice. Even seeing someone that looked like him brought anger. Despite being brothers created by Ratnis, even Sirius had not shared the same appearance as Davus. And yet here stood a man, a being, going by Davie, that shared Davus’ face.

“That is the wrong question.” Severa answered on his behalf. “It doesn’t matter who he is, or who he was, or who he will be. Just as you believe it doesn’t matter who you used to be.”

“But it does matter!” Davus shouted defiantly.

“Not here.” Davie answered. He shared Davus’ voice as well, determined and powerful but projected with a potent subtlety, something Davus never had. Davus had trouble focusing on Davie. All around he saw ghost images, specters of others passing through the temple. He saw versions of himself, versions of his past enemies and allies, great battles and destruction of worlds. He felt himself being pulled towards it, catching only one more glimpse of Davie before completely tumbling into the flow of reality.

And then he felt a hand gripping his arm, yanking him back to the hall of specters. It was the one with his face, Davie. He looked remorseful, filled with pity for Davus.

“This place grants memories of past lives only when they are truly needed. Before this moment, it was not important to know who I was, it was not important to answer your question. But now I sense things have changed.” Davie’s gaze was unwavering. Davus suddenly wanted to look away, but felt locked in place. “We are of different worlds. The Davus I knew was my brother, a twin that was my equal and my opposite. He murdered me amidst a great war of elements, a single death in his murderous conquest. He held the power of the elemental stone of water, a titan of the land in an age of absolute destruction. I know not the ultimate fate of that world, but I know his fate was one of despair and sorrow. It was only in his death at the end that he realized the wasted potential, the pointlessness of his conquest.”

“I am not that man.” Davus remained defiant. But he didn’t get a sense that Davie disagreed. It felt more like reassurance. He was being reminded that his new path, whether or not it was the right one, was more right than his old path. “But I am not some hero.”

“Do you understand now?” Severa interrupted. For the first time ever, she looked like she had true empathy for Davus. He showed no external response but the quivering of his eyes. He did not want to answer, and did not need to. Severa’s question transformed to that of the rhetorical and silence settled in for a time. Davus suddenly wanted to ask Davie questions, know more, be more. But that desire alone meant that the reason for his visit to this place was over. The temple, the specters, and Davie all began to fade away. A whisper of Davie remained on the wind.

“You have been granted a single gift by the Temple of Forever. You will be exactly where you need to be, when you need to be there...Do not waste it, for this gift will not be given twice.”

Davus, Kakariko Village, Long Night 3

With the words faded fully on the wind, reality snapped back into place sharply. The sounds of both elemental screaming, and civilian screaming, could be heard. Always a storm, always destruction. For once when Davus joined in the destruction, it would be with the goal of stopping it.

He smiled.

“Severa.” His smiled dropped when he turned to her. She had helped him, but they would never be friends. They would be barely be allies, only for as long as was needed. It was okay. This was about more than that.

“I’m giving you a chance to prove yourself.” Severa backed away from the destruction all around, finding a dark corner in the shadows to stay in. Several hundred feet away a battle waged between Taden and Polaris. The Temple and Davie had moved them from the mining facility to Kakariko. Davus felt inclined to do just what Severa said. Finally prove he was on the right side. Would do what was right. Taden had not seen him, and he now held Lynn hostage.

Davus had always acted in chaos, disorder. Now he chose precision. With every bit of focus he had, he aimed a singular lightning bolt at the knife now held to Lynn’s throat by Taden. The bolt and Davus moved in unison to the point of the blue fire. The lightning cut a hole through the fire and Davus passed beyond the ring and stopped at its edge. The bolt continued onward, striking the knife away from Lynn and burning the ice off. Taden was forced back a few feet, and Davus moved from the blue fire ring to within a few feet of Taden.

“What do you know of true hell?” Davus asked Taden. Lightning struck the ground all around them both, spraying red ice and brown earth into the air. Davus gestured towards Polaris. “I stayed with this one through thousands of years in hell itself. I’ve seen terrors that would send you crawling back to whatever ice hole you came back from. My name is Davus Fulmen...you know me, knew me as Fulmen the Feared. But the only ones now who should feel fear are my enemies.” Davus felt more powerful than ever before. Reborn with purpose. “You are outnumbered, Hothnight. Retreat.”

Summary: Severa and Davus complete their little side journey and get teleported to Kakariko Village “where they are needed.” Severa backs off and hides to watch Davus and see if he really has changed. Davus leaps into the middle of the Polaris-Taden faceoff and saves Lynn, knocking Taden back. Davus is ready to fight alongside the forces of good.

Sirius’ hands raced from rune to rune, inputting commands as fast as he could. There was little time before the battle and things needed to be just right. At any moment, the turning point of the very era could arrive. It was risky, to be bringing it all down to this.

He lifted a goblet overflowing with steaming green liquid.

“Yes...Yes! I’ve done it!” Sirius had been uncharacteristically quiet for hours prior to that point, working diligently with singular focus. “The greatest green tea ever made!” He took a huge gulp, and immediately spat it out. “This is mint. Damn it.”

Her movements were exact. This was the moment, the chance. Polaris, Taden, herself... all together. Fate, it would seem. As Polaris showboated the battle, she moved as she had been trained, as she had lived her life. She moved knowing Taden wouldn't be fooled.

And the moment came. A blast of Blue Flame. That familiar chill. A knife at her throat.

“You should know better than to backstab a backstabber, especially one you trained.” The soft whisper of that most Hated creature, against her ear. So close. She almost had to fight to keep the exultant sense of victory tarnishing the expressionless mask of her face.

And it all came crashing down. Unexpected interlopers, the hallmark of this whole damn war. Davus Fulmen, the Feared, acting as he did best: sewing chaos. Lightning struck, the Maskmaker's Knife jerked away from her throat, and with it went the frozen chill that dammed her mortality. Blood began to flow down her neck, pooling precariously in the hollow of her exposed collarbone before soaking into the torn fabric of her suit.

Fulmen strode confidently through the Blue Fire, stalking his way to mere feet in front of Taden. “You are outnumbered, Hothnight. Retreat.”

"No." Lynn spat, her voice low but projecting. "No retreat."

She torqued her body, twisting at the waist. The rime cracked, and she screamed as it tore into her and away from her. "I know you better, now, Taden," she snarled through clenched jaw. With a force of will, her left leg shattered its confines, and Polaris' blood-rain made its best efforts to hide the result. "But you have forgotten..." a sharp hiss punctuated her words as she stepped forward onto her ragged foot, "... something about me!" The last word was screamed as her right leg broke free, and she stumbled at the effort, falling at Taden's feet.

Her head lifted, tears unbidden welling up in her eyes. She grabbed his ankle, firmly but with the first signs of weakness from her injuries. She glared at Taden, and a seething roiling well of deep hatred burned behind her eyes.

"I am Garo's Blessing."

And she let go of the hold she had kept for so many months on the bubble of the Light Spirit's Blessing riding in her soul, that Blessing which had cushioned and protected her at times from the piece of Taden's own soul living in her. Finally, peace washed over Lynn Annei. She glowed from within, brighter and brighter, until blinding all those around her. And she focused that power into a single point, shaping it to a single purpose.

She channeled the Blessing out through the hand which held firm to Taden, forcing its power into him.

She writhed from the touch of him. Her lips burned at the memory of his own. But she felt... contented. Full. Complete. Ready. Something new. Something alien. Something... other? No, no. Not her thoughts. Her thoughts, yes, of course, but not hers. Down, down, down. Stay your part, until the part is played. A role for all, and for all a roll. Well, except for her. The roll was over, and the role still remained.

She fingers brushed softly across her stomach, then flicked across her hips as though brushing away dust. The shadows wiggled, cavorting over her flesh. Or through it. Or in it. Or under it. Or all. Or none. The shadows didn't have to choose. They didn't like to choose. Choosing is just so fatalistic. Best to avoid that kind of thing, when you already know how its going to end anyway.

She felt a tug. Her skin pulled, and she smiled. "Wayward son come home, and about time it is! Oh, and Papa just left, how sad."

As she spoke, a Duskrift tore the cell asunder, and came from it Taur Dagnir schlepping the battered but conscious form of Senshi Ma, the Shinigami. The armored brute threw the young man at Umbra's feet, while his other gauntleted hand tightly bound a squirming child.

Umbra smiled at Taur, the effect quite disconcerting when formed by her shadowy essence. "Good boy. Have a biscuit." Her fingers wiggled, curled, and a puck of Dusk formed in her palm, which she tossed to the Darknut. Then she dismissed his presence, on to a more interesting plaything.

"So, we meet once more! What a day for reunions! Heart be still! Still, a heart. Shadowcaster, still, but Shadowmere, I think?" She crouched beside him. "You aren't truly beaten, we both know that. Prove your strength. Take the leap. Be the big damn hero."

She leaned forward, whispering to him. "Do you think I'm the bad guy here? Or are you the bad guy?" She pulled back with a laugh. "Ohohohoho! What is good and evil, anyway? Or right and wrong? Absolutes, so obsessive, aren't they? You've been through so much, and learned so little. My little protege. Shall I tell you a secret?" She turned to Taur, distracted by the pulsing emanations of Dusk from the puck resting in his puck. "Should I give it away?" Of course, the brute didn't answer. She loved the child for that, so dutiful. So observant. So lost. What a blessing.

She winked at the child, that confused soul. Misha. Mikhail. Duality. These Hylians just weren't built to embrace it. That really was a shame. Fool Goddesses. Half-measures, in all. Umbra tiled forward once more, whispering again to her captive audience.

"Senshi Ma. Know this, you slow-learning fool of a man: Shadow is not bad. Darkness is not evil. These powers care not for your quibbling over right and wrong. All that matters is what you do with them."

She cupped his chin in a umbral hand, lifting his head. She looked into his eyes, sincerity painted in the queer expressions that played on her Dusk-formed face, and sincerity dripping from her pleading tone. "Help me save the world."

Summary: Taur finally brings Senshi (and Misha) to Umbra. HOW he subdued them is left undisclosed, but GM motoring in order to get the Finale rolling. She tells Senshi "It's not the powers you use, but what you do with them" to try to help him in his own little internal turmoil, and then basically begs him to help her "save the world".

The Chieftain patted Giga's hand after bringing him the collected materials for what would become known as The Sword of Daybreak. The onus of its creation fell to their greatest smith, this largest living member of their kind. The forgefires burned with the heat of Death Mountain itself, he had been preparing them all day and it was time. He didn't feel ready, but it was time.

The secrets of this task swirled in his mind. Such arcane forces. It might take all night. Or it might not. Magic was not to be considered lightly, and none had attempted a feat as this since the Sages themselves gave the world the Master Sword of legend. There were no true records, of course. Legends and myths. Stories, fireside tales. It was unnerving to think that, one day, such awe-inspiring stories would be told about this very moment.

If they won. If they lived. If the world survived for such tales to be told, to be woven. To be forged.

His hammer began to pound the metals. An exact amalgam would be needed, to balance the unnatural forces harnessed in the blade. Even this, even making the billet from which the sword would be formed, was a grueling task. He had spent months studying, practicing, perfecting. And without material, at that. Such smithing was more than just laying metal to anvil and pounding it with a hammer. No, there was much science, and much artistry. Such a great task. He approached it reverentially, cautiously, but not fearfully.

Those tales, those legends, they would be told. This sword, second only to the Master Sword! He would see it happen!

The fires raged. The heat seared. His assistants slowly abandoned him to the room, unable to stand the furnace blast that only Gigagoron, only the biggest and strongest, could bear. They knew the task was in good hands.

The high peal of an anvil's shout echoed through Goron City. It rang out from the peak of Death Mountain. Giga was at the hammer.

Still the fires raged, and the heat seared.

Summary: Giga has begun the process of forging the Daybreak Sword, in anticipation of having all the ingredients soon, once Darrel manages to deal with Isaac. Who knows how long it will take (till morning?), what with all the wyrd magicks involved in the task.

A sudden silence overcame the field as Lynn’s fingers grasped his boot; he looked down, stunned from the newcomer’s lightning strike, and could barely discern the words coming from her lips in his deafness.

"I am Garo's Blessing."

Still no sound came to Taden’s sharp ears as white subsumed his field of vision. He only felt his muscles rend from their ligaments, his bones break, the skin on his eyes and mouth and neck shred like melting ice in the morning. He rocked back, slammed into the brick of the Kakariko Windmill, and fell limp against the grass as rubble from the structure collapsed on top of him.

Dust fell for a moment, and the silence seemed to stretch across the battlefield. Lynn lay prone, fist clenched above the ground, while Davus and Polaris stood watch from their vantage. The crackle of Blue Fire still lingered around the edges of the arena, as did the glistening whisper of Red Ice.

Then from beneath the rubble, laughter. A cackling peal seemed to hiccup from the debris, and the limp, lithe body of the Hated rose all at once into the air as if on strings, its Shaman’s Mask closing over the blank, unconscious face, and the Dusk Mail giving an otherworldly glow. The masked young body began to sway to and fro as the dark aura grew around the Dusk Mail adorning his chest. He curled into a fetal position in midair, then vanished in a sudden veil of fog and clap of thunder, his laughter still echoing over the cold commons.

“You are…Garo’s Blessing?” a deep, sinister voice called out from the fog. “…Thou fool god. What do you know…of the Void?”

With another clap of thunder, and a flash of lightning from within the gathering fog, a great wind of ice and snow lashed out towards the gathered warriors, the unholy battleaxe Ginnungagap borne on its wing. Revolving in the air, the black Axe smashed through the raised pillars of Red Ice from Polaris, sending them all crashing down to the ground over the warriors’ heads, then returned in a long arc to the swirling arctic vortex whence it came.

“I am Tempest!”

As the shattered Red Ice columns rained down in shards, Tempest burst from the icy vortex in the form of a towering barbarian Yeti, his battleaxe borne aloft in stoney hands, his Dusk Mail transformed into a full suit of commanding black armor. He roared into the long night as Blue Fire whipped up around him in a maelstrom, and he rode the wave of night’s flame towards his enemies, bringing an earth-cleaving strike of his Axe down at their center, sending shockwaves of paralyzing cold out in every direction. Even as he plunged bodily into his strike, the sky overhead lost its scarlet luster, and bolts of Blue Fire began to rain down from the blackened spiral of clouds.

OOC: Stunned by Davus’s blast, Taden has no time to react to Lynn’s point-blank Light attack, and gets blasted into the side of the Kakariko windmill. His unconscious body then floats up from the rubble, the Yeti Mask containing the Storm Medallion has slid over his face, and he begins the transformation into Tempest. From inside a vortex of ice and fog, he hurls his battleaxe, Ginnungagap, at Polaris’s ice columns, causing them all to shatter and fall on Davus and Lynn in a hail of Red Ice spikes, then summons the axe back like a boomerang. The spherical ice storm dispels, revealing Taden transformed into a supernaturally large Yeti wearing the Dusk Mail as an ornate suit of armor. As the Red Ice spikes finish crumbling, he swings his axe to generate a tidal wave of Blue Fire, then leaps into it to brandish his axe within the broader elemental attack. He also converts Polaris’s summoned Red Ice storm into a Blue Fire storm.

Dead flesh piled upon itself. The tide of redead and stalchildren had reversed, shrinking back toward their golem of bone, tissue, and blood as the reaper circled with its scythe raised high and the Celestial hurled his sunbeams into their ranks, igniting their putrescent flesh in holy fire. The arrows and balls of worldly flame still rained in from beyond the killing field. The threat appeared contained, but for the beast at its epicenter.

The golem continued to snatch its smaller fragments as they fled past, crushing them in its enormous hands or ensnaring them in its writhing tentacles and crushing them against itself, slowly resorbing every sickly drone. Its wounds healed with every creature it took back into itself, and it grew larger. Every time it opened its mouth it loosed an audible miasma into the air, corrupting the field. The fireballs and flaming arrows struck it, but fizzled out, lacking the power to damage it.

Chamdar had his watch in his hand, the silver chain extending from above the face of the device back into the pocket of his cassock. The luminous runes flashed wildly as he ran long, bony fingers across it in an intricate pattern, accessing its many functions. The others continued to revolve closer and closer to the golem, orbiting in ever tighter circles as the ranks of the undead thinned and the golem grew in strength. Whatever had borne this beast into the world, its magic was powerful. It would not die easily, and much of the Scion's strength was spent.

He reached down to his belt. There the pearly dagger he'd taken from his vault rested innocently against his hip. Circumspect, he drew it out of the sheath, baring the lustrous blade rippling with lines of cold light and tongues of azure flame. Pilfered power, a sliver of a sliver.

The angel and the reaper, death and light, encircled the golem, now alone on the battlefield, lashing at it with their powers. The scythe swept through the tendrils undulating wildly, severing them and sending puffs of ash into the air with each pass. The angel's power bored into the core of the creature, but it was stronger than it should have been and the holy fires did not wither or scorch with the force they should have. This Celestial was a creature of the Sacred Realm, not of mortal earth. What was needed was an angel's might made of earthly flesh that could bring its full power to bear.

Still, the beast bellowed its nauseating cry, warping the very air around itself and holding its adversaries at arms' length. It was fully focused on the two unearthly creatures, and its eyes were closed to the Scion.

He pressed his thumb down on a rune on the display of the pocket watch, which cleared the face of all others. The selected run turned green and began to flash, slow at first but picking up speed. He snapped the watch closed, buried it in his pocket, and despite a grimace made a limping sprint toward the beast. He had no voice to loose the lightsong, and his wounds flared painfully. He passed beneath the fluttering, ethereal robes of the reaper and then ducked as tentacles slapped out at him wildly. With his free hand he caught hold of one, almost retching as the contact turned his stomach. Still he held on and used the tentacle to wrench himself off of his feet and pull himself inside the reach of the golem's titanic arms. Other tentacles lashed out, encircling him, constricting and trying to crush him, even as they sickened and brought bile up to burn his throat.

He buried the dagger, its pearly blade glowing silver-blue and flickering with flame, up into his head from below the jaw.

Arctic energies unleashed in a torrent. Blue flame erupted from the blade and flashed the golem to ice from the inside out. Its head froze, then its neck, then shoulders and chest, all in an explosion of cold, a self-contained blizzard. The tentacles froze and then shattered, and close as he was Chamdar should have taken the brunt of the blast as well, but for the countdown he'd initiated. Unseen in his pocket, the run upon his pocketwatch stopped blinking. Even as the wave of Hothnight's appropriated power should have turned him to a pile of flash-frozen flesh, the field erupted in an emerald glare.

When it subsided, the golem was a broken pile of icy chunks and the Scion was nowhere to be seen.

Above Kakariko Village - Night Three

Chamdar reconstituted the dark. He manifested on hands and knees, gasping painfully. His face and beard were coated with hoarfrost, his coat was stiff from the intense cold. Everything hurt. Too close to the blast. Stupid, risky, but fortunately effective. What do you do when your powers seem to have little effect? Turn the darkness upon itself.

Through the darkness came a light, a blurry glare. Then another, and another. Seven in all, approaching from all sides, encircling him. His vision cleared and he laid eyes upon figures hooded and robed in all colors. Each figure held a torch aloft and gazed down upon him from within their drawn hoods.

"Lord Scion," one grinding voice said softly.

The others uttered things he could not make out, and they drew closer. One offered a free hand and helped the Scion to his feet. He staggered a step and brought a trembling hand up to his face, wiping away the patina of rime coating his mouth and nose. Farore's Wind... not a pleasant experience in his current state.

"What hour is it?"

"Late, Lord Scion," said the first speaker. "Dark fell hours ago. The last remnants of Hyrule are under siege from above and below. Primordials have begun to unleash their fury. Hylians flee to Kakariko and the mountain from their hidden sanctuary, pursued by the Twili. The Hated is the tip of that spear, while Kinslayer has disturbed the mountain itself."
"Then it's nearly time."

The robed figures fell silent at that. Two moved aside to allow him past, and he limped through the dark toward the mouth of a tunnel he could barely see. That tunnel led from the antechamber and opened into a broad cavern within the mountainside, this one lit by seven standing braziers set in a heptagon pattern. The flames burning there lit the outer wall of the cavern, revealing glimmering runes upon those surfaces. Wards and spells to safeguard and conceal them. Within the circle of braziers stood a raised platform inscribed with a series of triangles. An image of the golden triangles, the Triforce of the Goddesses. The priests filtered in behind him and gradually all took their places upon the platform, standing in perfect alignment with the braziers against the outer edge of the cavern. They set their torches down on the stone and gradually each sank down cross legged, their arms buried in their sleeves.

Chamdar approached and drew the blood red book from inside of his coat. Holding the thing so close to his heart had sickened him every but as much as his contact with the undead monster, but in a different manner. It was a sickness of the soul. An abomination.

A necessity.

He opened the cover and flipped the pages, then set it down at the center of the platform, in the heart of the Triforce symbol carved into the stone.

"This must be. You seven, your blood and your souls, will ignite the light that ends the Primordials for all time." He turned in a slow circle, favoring his injured leg. So quiet, resolute, these priests he'd made, these holy men he'd blessed and sanctified with the power of the Sacred Realm. Utter devotion, absolute clarity of purpose. Their sacrifice would beget his own. "Begin the ritual."

The first chanted lines of the incantation followed him as he exited the hidden sanctum and made his way out into the night. Cold winds buffeted him as he found himself upon the slope of Death Mountain, high above the Kakariko graveyard which he could see below. A storm had risen, and above the sky glared red as the volcano spewed flame into the dark. The air was a blanket of hot smoke and cold fog. Below, signs of battle were evident.

Using his staff as support, he began the slow descent toward madness.

Nearly time. Nearly.

Summary: Chamdar, tired and injured from all of the fighting in the past day, finishes the golem by using a dagger he crafted containing a facsimile of Taden's ice powers, a mock of the Maskmaker's Knife designed for single use. He stabs it and causes an explosion of cold that flash freezes the golem and shatters it, but he also catches a face full of that power before he Farore's Winds himself out of there just soon enough to not end up an icicle himself. He reappears in a secret cave on the slopes of Death Mountain where he'd set his warp point. Concealed within, guarded by magical runes and wards, are seven priests he's been preparing for a ritual spell of some kind. He indicates that the time to begin the spell is now, and he provides them with one of the spell tomes he took from his vault in Sirius' lab. They begin the first stages of the spell as he exits the cave and finds himself high above Kakariko graveyard. He can see the signs of Taden, Polaris, Lynn, and Davus fighting in the village and begins his descent toward them though he is clearly not at full strength.

He really picked a hell of a time to quit drinking. The stims in his lotus root tea made everything feel like a blur. Between interdimensional warping in time and space and the Mesmeric miasma swirling about his head, an invitation to fight Kinslayer was all he needed to get his adrenaline flowing in a more regulated fashion.

"What say you, Jaden? One more time, together?"

The Sentinel reached into his pack and pulled out a rather unusual looking stone, grinning as he studied its many facets.

"I've got a present for him. It's from a mutual friend of ours. We will do what so many others could not. It'll be an honor to draw swords once more. Let's put an end to Telmar. Lead the way, sir."

As he started to walk, Jaden took a long draught of his tea, thinking about his sister and all the trouble she'd been going through. This battle was for her. If it weren't for Kinslayer pushing her to use her powers, she might not have been in the mess she was in with a Sage Medallion grafted into her flesh and bone. Scions normally had short life spans, and he wanted to ensure that Kae had a chance to live as long as Chamdar, if not longer.

"You honor me by asking for my blade here, sir. But this score is much more of yours to settle than mine. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Summary: Jaden readily agrees to take on Kinslayer while Darrel enacts his part of the plan. He does show mild concern, as Darrel's grudge is much larger than his own. He picked a hell of a time to quit drinking.

Heat blistered their faces and acrid, sulfurous smoke stung at their eyes and nostrils as the two made their way up the stony trail. Shoulder to shoulder they climbed, old and young, wearied and worried. Resolute.

"You honor me by asking for my blade here, sir. But this score is much more of yours to settle than mine. Are you sure this is what you want?"

They crested a rise, pulling themselves up a sheer but short stone face and rolling over the edge onto their backs before rising to their feet. Darrel cast his gaze ahead, up ever more difficult terrain towards the rapacious inferno above, spewing smoke and ash and molten rock into the night sky.

"I've borne this vendetta for centuries," he replied softly, never turning his eyes away from where his wife's murderer awaited. "And it's nearly destroyed me."

"I don't underst--"

"Kinslayer killed my wife, my Helen. He took her from me. That is what I believed, but only because I did not understand. I was too absorbed by the need for vengeance that I could not sense her. Could not hear her vocie." He patted the hilt of Morning's Edge, the golden sunburst upon its pommel. "She was a Celestial. She was of the Sacred Realm, fallen or not. She was never truly gone. I was."

He turned to look Jaden in the eye, his friend, his brother in arms. He could not give the young man a smile, for her knew what it was he asked of him.

"Kinslayer is more powerful now than ever before, and he must be cast down, but I have let go of my personal rancor. There is another task ahead for me, I fear, and it is not one that I can ask of you, so I must ask of you this. You are the future, Jaden. You and Kae, Horus, and the others. You will be the guardians and protectors of Hyrule from here into the future, if we succeed in ending this war. You will face Primordials and more in the future, and you will do it alone." He breathed a sigh, turned his eyes again skyward. "But me... this is my last war, and I have only one more thing I can give."

Crater's Edge - Night Three

Some time later they clambered up the rocky face until they found themselves staring down into the pit, the open wound in the mountain. Each was forced to draw a cloth across their mouth and nose to ward off the poisonous clouds, but the flecks of liquid flame burned holes in their clothes and left blisters upon their flesh. Darrel looked around, seeking the Kinslayer and finding nothing within sight until his gaze alighted upon a familiar figure pawing at the rock with its hooves, two figures sharing its saddle. He and Jaden circumnavigated the crate's mouth until they shared the same flat crop of rock with Mirra Lemeris and Lia Chiaria.

"I hadn't thought to see you two here," Darrel said over the din. "Have you seen sign of the Kinslayer?"

"Of course they haven't, friend," Telmar's voice boomed through the hellscape. "I was waiting for you. It always needed to be you."

Four pairs of eyes swiveled out to gaze across the open hole in the mountain, straining to pierce the deathly brume. Within it, a figure could be glimpsed, the folds of his coat fluttering in the blistering winds, truly identifiable only as two points of light, two fiery eyes gazing out at them all. Gradually that shadowy shape within the plumes of black smoke and ash seemed to raise an arm above its head, and suddenly the gloom was eradicated in an eruption of luminescence their eyes could not bear.

"You come for this, yes? You come for the Sun Shard so you can craft your precious sword. Well, here it is."

Daring to look, Darrel peered out toward Kinslayer in time to see him thrust the shining device down into the crater. A ray of purest sunfire erupted from it, scouring away the sulfurous veil in time to see it pierce into the roiling magma.

The eruption that followed sent gouts of flame and slag hundreds of meters into the night sky, and forced the group to hurl themselves down the outer slope of the crater lest they be immolated.

"Come and take it, Mytura! Let's have that vengeance you've been centuries hunting!"

Summary: Darrel and Jaden talk as they climb Death Mountain on their way to face Isaac. Darrel, in answer to Jaden's question, makes plain the burdens that Jaden and the new Lights are going to need to bear moving forward as the old guard slowly fades away, and says he has one last thing he needs to do and Jaden can't be the one to do it. Then they arrive at the crater and find Mirra and Lia already there. Isaac is waiting for them within the plume of smoke rising from the erupting crater and taunts Darrel some. Then he uses the Sun Shard to create a massive, violent eruption that forces the group to take cover.

Mirra ducked low and pulled the shining white visor of her helm across her face, suddenly seeing the world in a veil of spiritual energy—and gaining access to Roc’s mind overhead. The divine falcon soared wide afield of the volcano blast, but circled around to catch a glimpse of the Kinslayer standing contrapposto to the brink of the crater where they’d fallen. His long talons tapped along his scaled biceps as he awaited the group’s next move. Even without seeing him attack, she knew she would be unable to face the Primordial head on.

“I shall do what I can to retrieve the Sun Shard. Use these, and try to draw his ire.”

Mirra quickly knelt before Darrel and Jaden, and slipped two of Roc’s feathers in either of their boots. The two compatriots found their steps freer, and their weapons lighter in their hands.

With a grim nod, she then pulled her scarlet hood over her helm and dashed away into the gathering smoke. It gave her no pause with her vision enchanted, and Roc sailed high overhead helping her find her way among the rocks.

Before long, she reached the far side of the crater, putting Isaac in the pit of the crater between herself and the other Allies. Once they engaged him, she would have the element of surprise. Creeping down, she kept her distance from the battle, and readied her angelic bow with a Light Arrow.

Carefully, she began peering along the cracks of the volcanic pit Telmar occupied, looking for signs of the Sun Shard below. As long as the volcano stayed active, there was a chance it would wash up on the black igneous crag.

OOC: Mirra lowers her visor to shield herself from the volcano, then gifts one of Roc’s feathers to both Jaden and Darrel to boost their agility. She sidles around the crater’s edge to sneak behind Isaac, and using Roc to visualize the battlefield from above, positions herself for an archery strike. She’s also scanning for the Sun Shard, through a telepathic link with Roc, should it turn back up.

OOC: This is part one of a three part post meant to catch Simeon back up to the current story. Part 3 will involve Simeon's response to Grem's last post. Part 2 and 3 are coming soon, but I wanted to get this one out there now so you aren't left waiting with nothing.

Simeon Ryssdal/Zora's Domain Entrance/Day Three

Simeon and his company of men led their army through the narrow canon’s and river valleys of northern Hyrule into the frozen wasteland of Zora’s Domain. Though on the lookout for any sign of ambush the landscape remained deftly quiet. It seemed like the once proud Zora tribe had lost its means, or perhaps even its will to fight. After an uneventful horseback ride Simeon dismounted at the foot of a frozen waterfall with Zephyra flanking his side.

Their waited the Zora, King Realto, and his bone thin contingent of guards. With the guards holding out a white flag Simeon approached and met the monarch alone on center ice.

“Ah, King Realto!” laughed Simeon in a faux jester of warmth. “What a pleasure it is to meet you in person. I assume you’ve come to surrender? I can personally guarantee favorable terms on behalf of your people. We would be honored to have your dominion as an autonomous territory of the Twili Kingd…”

“Spare me your false pleasantries’” said the king rolling his eyes. “You and I both know the only reason I’m here is because my forces lack the capacity to fight back. If I had the chance I would gut you where you stand interloper!”

“Well then it's my good fortune that’s not an option for you. Fighting back would only result in your tribes annihilation I’m afraid. Come now, why act so rude to your liberators when your fate depends on our good grace?”

“Liberators?” questioned the king in a condescending tone. “If survival depends on your grace, then clearly you’re not liberators. Our independence is not up for negotiations. I will have none of you set foot in my realm!”

“Well then good king, how do you propose to keep us out? Open battle won't end well for you. Even my mercy has its limits.”

“Like your fathers did?”

Simeon stopped breathing as his eyes widened at those words. A look of shocked disbelief washed over Simeon for a second, only for him to regain his composure with a nervous chuckle. "..Heh, I uhhh, I'm afraid I don't quite follow. My family's distinguished military history goes back…”

“To when your grandfather was executed for denouncing dusk worship" chimed in King Realto. "Diven by revenge your father took it upon himself to ferment a rebellion against the Twili Kingdom. He started the bloodiest war in your nations history until now, the Twili Civil War."

Simeon remained as composed as ever, but found he couldn't look the king in the eyes anymore. “…You've clearly mistaken my identity. I have nothing to do with that man…”

“You Twili are not the only ones to conduct espionage. My spies learned you served as his most trusted warrior. A child soldier raised from birth with one singular objective in life. The eradication of your fellow countrymen. And eradicate them you did, by the hundreds and thousands. Speak I not of the truth?”

Simeons attempted to speak calmly, but the spiteful tones of his voice revealed a murderous rage no man could conceal.

“No, you speak like an arrogant litte wretch who knows nothing of history. Who ever that boy was must have been stupid and brainwashed. I'm a loyal Twili patriot! I became known as the one who killed that man, and helped to end that war!”

“Only after you caused a massacre that killed thousands. You didn't care about the death count until you found your sister and mother among the number. Enraged, you plotted to kill your father in retribution. You snuck your way into the Twili army for completely selfish reasons. Tell me Simeon, if that is your real name, what would your men think of all this?"

"You've spent the past decades trying to separate yourself from the sins of your youth. Yet your whole adult life has been but that of an act. Would you like me to reveal to your followers what you've spent years trying to hide? Would they still follow you into battle knowing they lost relatives to your hands? Would they still look up to you knowing everything about you has been a fraud?"

At last Grem's newly appointed count reached his boiling point and grabbed Realto by the neck.

"You lyin' sack o' horse shit! I otta' slaughter you like a..."

Simeon stopped upon noticing his long suppressed, low class accent resurfacing. He turned behind him to see everyone watching, though he was sure no one could have overhead this compromising conversation. He let go of the king and dusted him off.

"You wanted to blackmail me? Congratulations! You have it. Name your demands.”

“I want you to leave here and never return” replied back the monarch. “Take your war and your deceitfulness elsewhere. If so much as one Twili sets foot in our domain, we will leak everything we know about your backstabbing was to your army. Then it will be your men, not mine, which you should fear for your life.”

Simeon stood hauntingly still, his mind struggling to process everting that just transpired. At last he nodded to the king and walked back to the Twili looking defeated. Smiling ear to Realto nodded and returned to the cheering choir of his guards. Cheering that gave way to terroir as a bolt of light melted a hole in the back of the Zora monarchs head.

Dropping dead on the ice, the Zora guards looked over their fallen kings body to find Simeon and his cavalry charging them. “They’ve refused to surrender” shouted Simeon over the roaring stampede. “Make an example of them!”

“Simeon no! Their not real soldiers. They can’t fight back” shouted Zephyra to no avail as her husband rode by. To their effort the half-starved milita of drafted guards tried to put up a resistance, only to be mowed down like blades of grass. One by one they were impaled, sliced and dismembered, with not a single Twili casualty among the number. Zora soldiers rushed in from the sidelines, only for their slow and clumsy movements to get them blown up by Simeon’s energy blasts.

One final group of archers tried to fire a volley of arrows from the cliffside above, only to be meet with red blinking light across in their chests. The archers winced expecting to meet their end, only to find the laser non-lethal.

“Move but an inch and I’ll fire” shouted Simeon below. “If you wish to die a noble death then fine by me, but this is the last I’ll stay my hand. Your choice is submission or extinction! Your king is dead! Say anything but "I surrender" and you can all follow him to the grave. What will it be?”

Demoralized and heartbroken by their king’s loss the remaining Zora put down their weapons without a fight.

Summary: Major spoilers are revealed in this post. You might want to read it first.

Simeon arrives in Zora's Domain where he expects Zora King Realto to surrender in the face of overwhelming odds. Instead the Zora king attempts to blackmail Simeon with hidden knowledge of his past. He reveals Simeon's father was the leader of the Twili Resistance Army which fought a brutal civil war against the Twili monarchy. Simeon was raised as a child soldier, but betrayed the movement when a massacre killed his sister. He snuck his way into the Twili army and became a "hero" when he killed his own father.

Threatened with this blackmail the Zora king demands Simeon turn his forces around. Instead Simeon kills the Zora King to keep his mouth shut. After a breif one sided fight, Zora's domain surrenders to the Twili.[/COLOR]

Frigid shockwaves burst forth from Taden’s strike in all directions as Polaris spread his arms wide and managed to right himself in free fall. With some slight measure of control regained, he reached down deep into the innermost depths of his being and called to the tumbling boulders of Red Ice. Answering his beckon call, they formed a cyclone beneath him with chunk after chunk slamming together taking form slowly.

Polaris landed on his feet on the back of lump of Red Ice as it still morphed haphazardly as if thrown together by some giant toddler. Standing upright with his sword rested against his shoulder, the General smirked

”I am… well, we know who I am. No surprise introductions here. Bored with your games is one thing I guess we could call me Horwendil. I really have somewhere else to be.”

The big crimson lump shivered from end to end and then back, tail to snout as large leathery wings burst forth, phosphorescent drops of Red Ice fell from them like rain as the construct screeched in indignation to the flaming blue heavens, while bathing the stormy skies with its frozen flames.

Leaping from betwixt the Red Ice Dragon’s shoulders, Polaris dove headfirst towards the ground below while the dragon took to the skies. Moments before reaching the ground Polaris flipped forward and landed catlike with a little hop and a crouch. He had lost track of both Lynn and Davus during the initial fall, but knew that they were close even after the arctic blast from the giant axe.

Twirling Winters Tide in his grip, Polaris walked Taden down whilst their very elements did battle across the canvass of this seemingly endless night. As he looked upon Taden encumbered by his armor of Dusk, his face tingled and he smiled with memory.

"You have been touched by the Warp. By chaos. So be it. In the end, we choose our own way. If you would safeguard Order in this world, then do so."

”So be it.”

His bare crimson scales glowed silver as he burst forward in an explosion of controlled violence, swinging his sword in a diagonal arc, glancing off of the haft of Ginnungagap with an odd clang as his prey brought the axe up in defense. Taden swung a gauntleted fist in a wide haymaker, narrowly dodged with a backflip.

Polaris sent a mid-air blast of red ice towards Tempests breastplate before landing with Winters Tide brought up in a defensive position.

Davus’ intrusion on the fight had been more about proclaiming a new stance in life than make a dramatic difference. These were all seasoned fighters, intimately familiar with both life and death, most having experienced each more than once. Davus was no stranger to that. It had become almost casual, expected. Not that it ever made the sensation of dying any less pleasant. Or living more pleasant.

He heard the hushed calls of Severa drawing him further from the fight, to the dark corners of the village where the elemental lights did not push back the night sky. She was stoic, but he could read her well enough, even she was satisfied with his performance, if not outright impressed.

“You know this world doesn’t need us here anymore.” She remarked. “We both have a more important role in it, but not as a part of this era. The future calls.”

“I don’t want to hear any more talk about the prisms of time or whatever.” Davus said, with only a hint of snark. He mostly meant it. “But I’m listening.”

“We can stick around long enough to make sure that darkness really is repelled, ensure the future is as it should be, and then we make that future our present, and save it too.”

Davus was disgruntled at the suggestion of more time travel. But at least in this instance it sounded like a straightforward path to the future, and not some convoluted loop where his soul was reborn from itself. It had taken millennia in hell with Polaris just to come to terms with that sequence of events.

“This is Polaris’ fight. But I can tell that the three bastions of fire, ice, and lightning will be sharing a battlefield soon. I’m not leaving before that.” Davus smiled, this time the snark being replaced with a hint of his old sinister self. But it was controlled, directed. He would not be murdering innocents or blindly casting chaos. This was just about some good old fashioned fun. Like old times.

Summary: A partially self aware post where Davus muses on the likely upcoming battle between the three birds.

“Simeon what the hell was that” shouted Zephyra with much anger directed at him.

“He was an enemy who refused to surrender. I did what I had to do” said Simeon.

“Don’t play dumb with me” she snapped back. “You brought me all the way here to negotiate with the Zora king, only to end up killing him? You know he would have given in to any demand we made. What could he have possibly done to cause you to do something so utterly stupid?”

“He was blackmailing us! He learned about my past with the resistance army. If word got out the whole Twili Kingdom could turn against us."

"But that didn't mean you had to kill him, he was unarmed! Couldn't you have bargained with him or something?"

"And have my strategy dictated by the enemy? Even if I did he could have broken his word. King Realto was stupid enough to blackmail me when I commanded enough power to destroy his entire nation. He deserves what he got."

"Oh, well isn't that the noble justification" mocked Zephyra clearly not swayed.

"Think what you want about it, the deed is done." replied Simeon waving it off. "All we can do now is move forward. I silenced any Zora who could have overhead me and King Realto, but if a foreigner as distant as him learned about my past it's only a matter of time before word gets out. I have to end the war now before anymore leaks jeopardize my command. It's time to alter our plans."

"What are you proposing" questioned Zephyra with her arms crossed.

"The thermal bomb we discussed earlier. I'm afraid your going to have forgo bringing it here. Instead I want you to bring it to Ordon Village. Set it up in the center of town, and order my men to prevent anyone from escaping. We're going to hold the village hostage."

Zephyra looked at her husband aghast, not truly believeing the order she was told. "You can't be serious. Simeon you said the bomb would be used to melt the frozen water and end the famine in Zora's Domain. What your suggesting amounts to genocide!"

"Calm down" said Simeon. "It's nothing at all like genocide. I'm just not helping the Zora at this time. If the Hyruleans, agree to my demands nobody will die from our bomb. You can simply deactivate the countdown, then bring it here to use for humanitarian purposes."

"And what if they refuse your demands? Are you going to order me to pull the trigger and watch thousands of innocent people die?"

"That won't happen once they learn they have no way to stop us."

"That's exactly what you told me last time about the Zora too! I don't know what's gotten into you but your foregoing whatever sense of honor and chivalry you claim to hold. If you go through with this, then your even worse than the Hylians you claim are so evil."

Simeon took a deep breath of cold misty air and paused for a moment. "I'm sorry for how much pressure I must be putting on you. I want you to calm down, take a deep breath, and consider traveling back to the Twili Kingdom. I can have one of our mages fill in to do your work for you. After I'm done in Hyrule I'll meet you back in our homeland."

"No Simeon! Your just trying to get someone else to do your dirty work because you know I won't do it!"

"That's not at all..."

"I'm a telepath! You can't lie to me! Grem and his government certified serial killers may have ordered you to commit genocide, but I will have none of it you creep!"

"ENOUGH" shouted Simeon as he smashed the bottom of his rod of light into the ground. Beams of blood red lasers shot out in all directions creating molten burn marks across the room. Rocks fell from the ceiling, furniture caught on fire, and the whole room seemed to shake. A frightened Zephyra Ryssdal found herself miraculously unharmed but with an enraged Simeon towering over her.

"10,515! That's how many men I've lost in this war so far! I've seen surrendering Twili slaughtered by the enemy, I've seen our people abused and tortured by Hylian hands! I found one of my best officers dead, his eyes gorged out, WITH A FORK! And you have the audacity to claim we're the serial killers?!! You've shown more kindness to the enemy than you ever have for those who fight to keep you safe!"

"Simeon I would never speak ill of their cause, but what your asking to do is wrong! We were supposed to invade Hyrule to make it a better place, not destroy it! Your men are fighting under the belief we're bringing Hyrule justice and enlightenment. Can't you see if you do this, everything they fought for will have been a lie? Your selling their morals out to satisfy Grem's crazed quest for power!"

"You want a morally superior leader to Grem" asked Simeon. "Guess what, there is none! The only alternatives are those who would see the Twili defeated and destroyed. I fought against injustice before and it ended up with everyone I loved dead. Perhaps if you object to my orders you should kill me, then join the Hylians, then kill anyone else who agrees with me! Then when you've lost everything, perhaps you can lie to yourself that it was all worth it, in the name of a just cause."

"I did what I thought was right before and it turned me into a monster. I refuse to betray my nation again! I gave up everything to join Grem and his forces, and I'll be damned if I don't do everything in my power to see them succeed! If you refuse to help then get out of my sight! I am Count Simeon Ryssdal, Field Marshall of the Twili Army. And I will not go down in history as a bloodthirsty turncoat!"

Zephyra starred at her husband silently for what felt like and eternity. With out a word she walked to the door to see herself out. Before leaving she turned around to face him with teary red eyes one last time. "...If you use that bomb, your still bloodthirsty as your past self."

"Hmmmm" mumbled Simeon, still deep in thought about his fight with Zephyra. "Oh! Lord General! Excuse me sir." Simeon stood up and gave a crisp salute, hiding well any expression he had previously felt. "Your arrival is just in time. Recon reports the Hyruleans have sustained considerable and my main force has yet to even arrive. I've preceded with caution, but the enemy seems to have retreated as fast as we advanced. Their morale is at a low point, one more defeat will see it crack!"

"On the subject of Bryseis I've been less fortunate. Intelligence has been unable to pinpoint her exact location, though we consider the chances of her being in Twili controlled territory remote. I'll need your permission to proceed, but I've come up with an... unconventional concept to try an apprehend her. I assume you remember the thermal bomb that was detonated during the Battle of Lake Hylia?"

"Yes" replied Lord Grem.

"Though originally developed to melt the cursed ice covering the waterways of Hyrule, it proved to be a powerful, if indiscriminate, weapon. Its battlefield capabilities were diminished after one of the enemies somehow absorbed most of the blast, hence why it won't be used in the current battle. Yet a civilian village would have no defense against it. My agents are in route to Ordon Village as we speak to activate the bomb. It can only be stopped if someone inputs the correct combination. Using one of our mages, I plan to send this information telepathicly and hold the Hylians ransom."

"Either they bring Kae Bryseis to me, or Ordon Village parishes!"

Quietly Simeon gulped down his fear as doubts about the plan began to creap in. He didn't know what Grem would think of him, if he would be disgusted, or overjoyed at the thought of Ordon's potential destruction. After hearing Zephyra's objections he almost wanted Grem to object, but was committed to following through if he agreed. After all they Hylian's had to bring him Bryseis. They couldn't let Ordon simply explode.

...Couldn't they?

"I should emphasize I need you explicit approval to see this plan carried out. If not I can attempt to probe enemy territory myself to try and find the scion personally, but it may take more time."

Summary: Simeon argues with Zephyra for a bit about what he did to the Zora King. He then reveals his plans to start the countdown a huge thermal bomb, capable of destroying a village in the center of Ordon. He plans to hold the civilian's there at ransom. Either the Hylian's bring him Kae Bryseis, or he let's the bomb kill everyone in Ordon. Zephyra objects, gets into a fight with Simeon, then leaves.

Later Simeon reveals that plan to Grem in more detail, and asks if he should proceed with it or not.

Tempest whipped his right foot in the air, and the black padded sole slapped the Red Ice blast from its course, splitting into five beams between his long toes and glancing off his fanged helm. He rotated his leg out lengthwise and twisted his hips, lowering his massive foot without bending his knee, while meeting the General’s gaze through the raging eyes of his mask.

“Your petty magicks will not avail you, old man,” he boasted. In truth, the Red Ice General had somehow joined forces with a mage whose elemental power of Thunder gave them just enough of an edge to meet the sorcery of his Storms, if not worse.

Stalling for Lord Grem and Captain Ryssdal against these foes would be impossible, as the night bore on into seeming endlessness. He decided to switch tactics. Whatever these conjurers were capable of, they still fought on the side of good.

“You will not have a chance against me, nor your armies against mine, so long as you defend these Hylian peasants in their weakness. Your power to protect will crumble under my power to destroy.”

Tempest planted both feet firmly in the frozen soil and pulled his arms in to his sides; he turned his glare upward, and a column of Blue Fire shot up all around him, shining from the eyes and mouth of his metallic mask. In a flash, he burst into the air, and landed on the side of the towering windmill in Kakariko’s commons.

With an animalistic roar that shook its foundations, Tempest ripped a cornice off the windmill with one fat hand, then hurled it into the rooftops below. The flying rock shattered the Red Ice cover Polaris had created and pummeled the house below, as Blue Fire began to catch on its thatched roof.

Before the dust settled, Tempest tore two more boulders of brick from stonework mill, and jettisoned them into the buildings below. The screams of the villagers trapped under the rubble began to echo into the sideways winds, as fire blue as lightning dripped from his rounded eyes and from his jagged, curling teeth.

Before the warriors below even had time to react, Tempest leapt from the windmill to the eaves of a large mansion below, moving with a meteoric speed that defied his gargantuan heft, and the shingles splashed out of his way as the mansion’s walls and pillars buckled.

Tempest swung his Axe once and stripped the manse of its facade, then flew into the night once again, arms and legs stretched back behind him as his black leathery gut seemed to propel itself skyward of its own accord.

He brought his Axe down in the middle of a street, and the rows of buildings on either side fell away like stalks of wheat in a windstorm. He kept moving, never still for longer than it took to wreak havoc on the structures around him, working his way deeper and deeper into the oldest parts of the town.

Behind him, a field of Blue Fire raised up over the shambles of Kakariko Village, as another great city of Hyrule began to fall to the ravages of war. In the distance ahead, he could see the Graveyard, and with each swing of Ginnungagap, he drew closer to its gates.

OOC: Taden opts for wreaking havoc over direct confrontation, and goads the faithful heroes into following his wake of destruction through the village.

“This isn't Polaris’ fight. It’s not your fight. It’s nobody’s fight.” Severa said, the sound of distaste in the air. Her disapproval weighed heavily. Shirking his old reactionary ways, Davus bravely pushed forward with his new view of the world, and considered more thoughtfully her real meaning.

“I am the master of chaos.” Davus said, raising a sparking hand in the air. Severa tensed, and Davus dropped the hand to his side. “I understand now. It was always here, just on the other side.” He was a little confused by his own words, but the drive within him was clearer than ever. Where he could sow chaos, he could also cure it. By the relaxed look on her face, it was clear Severa understood. It was a moment in time that spoke more loudly than words could.

Bringing his attention back to the battlefield was easy, with Taden going on a particularly flashy and admittedly impressive display of combat prowess. Davus almost wanted to cheer him on out of sheer respect, if he wasn’t so bored by it all. But entertainment didn’t matter, this was about proving to himself, and to Severa, that he was not the man he was made to be.

“Let’s clean this up.” Davus began gesturing much like an orchestra conductor, tracing pathways of lightning across the sky and down to the earth. With surgical precision, focused lightning strikes blasted apart debris and boulders imprisoning and crashing down upon the civilians. In a matter of seconds, enough for a single sweep of lightning strikes, much of the chaos was calmed. Davus continued conducting and the strikes began hitting key points where the blue fire burned, carving up the ground and isolating the fire and smaller patches.

“Okay I didn’t know you could do that. Did you just put out blue fire with lightning?” Davus was surprised to hear Severa’s surprise, given her supposed experience in alternate worlds of just about every shape and size. Davus turned back, stone faced from concentration.

“Magic.” He said, returning his focus to his new masterpiece of work. He only saw the hint of Severa’s shrugging response, finishing off the last of the blue fire that still burned in Taden’s wake. He directed the storm to condense over the graveyard and began slowly walking towards it.

“Polaris, whoever else is here. Let’s skip the part where we find out if I’m to be trusted. I’m against that.” Davus pointed to Taden’s beastly form. “Anyone else also against that, come help me put it down.”

Summary: Davus uses chaos control and removes rubble and debris causing imminent danger to civilians. He then also puts out the blue fire in the areas Taden has already left behind. He focuses the thunderstorm over the graveyard and invites others to join him as he walks towards it all badass.